


Love in Its Purest Form

by phantasmagorighoul (ghoullly)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Falling In Love, Forbidden Love, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, M/M, Making Love, Mild Gore, Princes & Princesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:53:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 49,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25583167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoullly/pseuds/phantasmagorighoul
Summary: The everyday life of a prince is boring.That is, until you find yourself face-to-face with the most beautiful person you'd ever seen, who coincidentally thinks the same of you.It is not interesting simply because he has fallen in love, but rather because the person he'd fallen in love with was a man and he was already set to be married to a wicked woman he could never come to care about.Luckily--or unluckily--neither prince is one to give up that easily.
Relationships: Enoshima Junko/Kamukura Izuru (One-Sided), Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	1. Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> hey!! this piece has been a wip for monthsssss and is an rp adaptation with @yoshis.tongue on instagram!! i was sobbing when the final response was sent so i hope you guys enjoy this as much as we did writing it <3 this was easily the most fun collab i've ever done no cap
> 
> ghoul wrote izuru, chiaki, and junko, while sadie wrote komaeda and mikan!
> 
> enjoy!! <3

“Your Highness,” a nervous servant on the other side of the door murmured, not getting a chance to finish.

“I am almost done,” a gold-plated brush glided through silken ebony hair, its owner unbothered and unhurried, “tell him that he will be fine to wait.”

Diplomatic duties weren’t exactly his favorite, but Izuru was forced to do them anyway to maintain the peace and trade between his kingdom and others. He was no stranger to the things diplomats whispered about him behind his back—that he wasn’t very friendly and wasn’t fit to be a prince; that he only had his looks and his intelligence going for him; that a brick wall was more conversational than he was. 

Hearing their harsh criticism, Izuru hardly found himself bothered, tying his hair back in preparation for yet another meeting. He expected nothing different of these officials than any other ones he’d met before. The only decent people he’d ever met with were from the far-off Novoselic region; they were hardly involved with each other any more, though. 

His servants knocked on his door to remind him to come out once more, yet he continued to toy with his appearance with no regard to his guests.

Despite being royalty, Komaeda had never felt particularly regal. In fact, quite the opposite. He wasn't particularly attractive, nor incredibly... well. Perhaps "sane" was a poor word to use. He was sane, and certainly in his right mind when it came to most things in his life. The problem arose when his unfortunate cycle of, well,  _ misfortune _ reared its head. Having been left to the throne and very ill prepared for such a burden, his small kingdom was without a king. Of course, he had many advisors taking care of the castle and connecting village, but... it was, to say the least, an  _ embarrassment _ . 

That's where he found himself now, standing in the hall of the massive stone building of Izuru Kamukura.  _ Out of his depth _ is the phrase that comes to mind.  _ Small. _ He felt puny in comparison to the massive, ornate halls. Kamukura was well known, to say the very, very least, and the thought that they would soon be meeting made a shiver of fear run through him. He wiped his hands over his white suit, smoothing it as best he could, and glanced at the massive portraits adorning the walls. Cool, red eyes stared back at him, looking down in disinterest. He clenched his jaw and turned away, sighing.

Kamukura had gone on messing with his hair and whatnot until it was to his standards; a careless host. He hadn’t made haste to reach his guest either, steps cool and unhurried as he approached him from down the hall. He had tied his long black hair behind him, and it fluttered close behind his calves as he began to read the man waiting for him at the other end. He seemed frail and nervous, and Kamukura noted that there wasn’t a part of his body that wasn’t white—even his suit matched his ivory hair, which seemed to have a mind of its own as it stuck out at intriguing angles. He said nothing while he was still walking toward him, heels of his shoes echoing loudly against the stone walls. 

As he grew closer, he was able to gauge that his guest was... rather feminine for a man; he had a beautiful face and his eyes and lashes were pale just like he was. For a moment, Kamukura found himself drawn in by the captivating man and wanted to dwell on his appearance just a bit longer, but he forced himself to look past it, stopping in front of him and discovering that they were nearly the same height. The other seemed to barely have an inch on him.

Kamukura cleared his throat and held out his hand, staring intently into the eyes of the other. He seemed to not blink as his deep voice spoke out, “I take it you are Nagito Komaeda, then?”

Komaeda would be ashamed to admit how his heart jumped at the voice in front of him. He had heard the footsteps, of course, and had even turned toward the other and attempted a small smile. However, the soft, yet stern voice had still managed to startle him and he quickly scrambles to recover the disaster of an introduction, accepting the hand with a smile. 

"Yes, hello. Izuru Kamukura, I presume... it's wonderful to make your acquaintance." Despite them being of the same status, he feels the overwhelming urge to kneel, those piercing eyes staring into his very mind. Perhaps the man could read minds? A telepath would certainly be quite the story to bring home. "I apologize for waiting, the portraits were a bit distracting. They are quite beautiful." He glances back up at them, then around the room, "In fact, the entire kingdom is quite magical... so filled with life and beauty. I saw a large portion of it during my ride into the city. You serve your people well." He smiles back at Kamukura.

_ His way of speaking is as intricate as he is,  _ Kamukura thought, unable to stop himself from continuing to assess his guest in secret. Anthropology wasn’t his favorite, but when it came to meeting new people, he was always curious to see if his predictions were correct or if he was way off. As it stood now, he wasn’t able to read the other man as well as he thought he’d be able to—this intrigued him.

“Thank you very much. I take my kingdom incredibly seriously; I’m glad to hear that you have enjoyed your exposure to it thus far.” He let go of the frail hand and tucked ebony hair behind his ear. “However, I don’t believe it will do us any good to continue conversing in the corridors, right?” He gestured for the other to follow him and he didn’t wait, beginning to walk off. “I shall lead you to a room that is more comfortable to discuss things further.”

Komaeda nods and quickly follows along, trailing behind the man and finally giving himself the opportunity to get a good look at him. To Komaeda's surprise, they're nearly the same height. He's thin, but not like Komaeda himself. Definitely much more toned. The back and forth swish of Kamukura's hair is almost hypnotic... just another crack at the edge of his nerves. The man is  _ gorgeous. _ It's no wonder he's so popular among, well... everyone.

The man was quiet behind him, but Kamukura didn’t pay much mind to it. He led his guest to a large stone door and pushed it open with one hand, holding it for the other prince to let him inside. This room had been used by his predecessors when they would hold meetings or dinners when they would have several guests at once; now it stood still, untouched save for when Kamukura would meet with the diplomats.

He pulled out a seat for Komaeda to sit in and sat across from him, folding his hands and resting them on the tabletop. Despite his best efforts, he found himself rather distracted by the beautiful man, even his voice gentle—Kamukura realized that they were nearly opposites, with himself being dark and brooding and the other soft and light. The comparison made a lump form in his throat and he forced himself to swallow it, tucking more loose hair behind his ear. “So, you were interested in opening trade to one another?”

Komaeda sits down in the offered chair, "Ah! Yes," he clears his throat and sits up, trying to maintain his professionalism in the face of his nervousness, "As you may be aware, the king and queen of my kingdom have... have recently passed. Uh," He pauses and glances away, giving a faint apology before continuing, "Er, they left me to rule with little resources. Of course, it is enough to sustain us, but only by the barest amount. It would be indescribably beneficial to us to open trade, and we would be willing to offer anything we can. It... may not be much. We are a far smaller nation than yours, but we have strong farms and a small army. Or anything that you wish to accept." 

In that moment, he wants nothing more than to hide under the table and melt through the stone floor beneath them. Maintaining eye contact with Kamukura is proving... difficult. His eyes stir a nervous energy within Komaeda's chest.

“I  _ have _ heard this about your King and Queen; my deepest condolences.” Kamukura watched as Komaeda practically squirmed in his seat, resting his chin in his hand as he listened to what he had to say. He said nothing at first, flicking deep red eyes away in thought. The Dark Prince let out a hum and sat back in his chair. “It wouldn’t be very kind of us to ask much of you when you are just managing to keep yourselves on your feet. For the time being, it is  _ us  _ who will provide anything you could possibly need; only once you are prospering will we begin to trade between each other.” 

Kamukura glanced at his suit sleeve, dusting off any particles that happened to sit on top of the sleek black. “I have trade open with enough kingdoms that it won’t affect us economically at all to support a few of your needs. We have a heavy supply of metals within our mines as well as the necessary artisans to craft weapons or tools that you could possibly need.” He stopped for a moment, quietly watching the other prince and honing in on the energies that he gave off.

Komaeda blinked, nearly all of the tension leaving his body as Kamukura spoke. 

_ Thank the heavens, they were getting help. _

For the first time in years his kingdom would have the support it needed to be sustained. He would stop getting pitying glances; no more angry letters or tense smiles. "Thank you. Oh, thank you, from me and all of my people..." His shoulders fell in relief... 

Kamukura swallowed, tilting his chin upwards slightly as he interrupted. “May I ask you a question?”

...only to spring back up at Kamukura's sudden question, "Yes! Yes of course."

A small smile graced Kamukura’s lips; Komaeda seemed sweet, and his relief was joyous to see. He leant forward, staring intently at the other man. “Am I making you nervous?”

With a dry swallow and a hitch of his breath, Komaeda adamantly shook his head, "N-No! No, I..." He sighs and slumps a bit, "I apologize. I should not lie. I just..." A nervous laugh leaves him, "I am perhaps a bit intimidated by you." His eyes widen and he raises his hands, "I do not mean offense! In fact, quite the opposite! Your majesty, you are quite..."  _ Beautiful. Angelic. Stunning. Dangerous. Exciting. Terrifying. _ "Impressive?" In that moment, Komaeda seriously debates jumping out of the top windows in the keep. It would be a much better fate than the one he has prepared for himself here.

Much to his own surprise, this makes Kamukura laugh a little, resting his chin in his hand again. “Impressive? I’m nothing that special. This kingdom was handed to me much like yours was to you; if anything, we are on the same level.” He smiled gently, his hair falling into his face. It was long enough to pool like water on the table beneath him, smooth and brushed entirely free of any knots. They were opposites in a few ways, he supposed—light, dark; short-haired, long-haired; effeminate, masculine. Most of the people he met with weren’t interesting at all and bored him within the first few minutes of speaking with them, but something about Komaeda kept drawing Kamukura in. He wasn’t sure if this was because of their clashing aesthetics or his beauty—and by god, was this man  _ beautiful _ , Kamukura notes—but something about him made Kamukura long for him to keep talking.

"Oh! Yes, yes, I'm afraid that is not what I meant..." Komaeda swallows his pride and continues, "We are of the same status; however, you are—if I may be so bold—horrifyingly attractive." His entire face turns a deep red and horror fills his eyes. In his time as prince, he had had little to no romantic affairs. Opting instead to remain to himself and protect the sacred hope of his small kingdom. The king and queen had been in the process of attempting some sort of arrangement with a neighboring kingdom with the available Princess, Mikan Tsumiki. She had seemed... fine. Kind, certainly. Perhaps a bit weepy for his taste.

_ As if his taste were anything like that at all. _ He eyes Kamukura again, stoic as ever as Komaeda is flooded with pure, strangling embarrassment. "I apologize. That was incredibly inappropriate of me, especially after your amazing kindness toward me thus far."

_ I... actually hadn’t expected that. _ Kamukura blinks, unsure of what to say, and casts a glance over to the large stone door they had entered through. There were undoubtedly guards on the other side to ensure the safety of both princes, but because this building was built out of thick stone, he didn’t think Komaeda’s words would have reached through to them.  _ How dangerous. _

Truthfully, Kamukura had never been romantically interested in anyone. His advisors had entertained the idea of him courting a princess from one of the neighboring countries—mostly Princess Sonia Nevermind of Novoselic—but the prince was cold and brooding and would refuse to entertain her nor her family anytime they would come for such affairs. He knew that the princess would never take it personally (especially because he’d talked to her one-on-one before and he was able to figure out that she was infatuated with one of her commoners). Indeed, Princess Sonia would be graceful as ever as she insisted it was alright, suggesting that he may have been feeling ill and needed to rest. 

With that logic, he had coincidentally fallen ill all five times they visited to suggest an organized marriage.

It was somewhat entertaining to see how Komaeda’s pale skin flushed a deep red as he fidgeted nervously. Kamukura hadn’t taken into consideration that the other prince could have been into the same sex; that was incredibly taboo, so the thought didn’t cross his mind. However, it was a relief to know that there was at least  _ one _ other prince who was interested in men as well. Kamukura never talked about it, but he’d found a handful of his commoners attractive, and a few of those commoners had been male. He’d never taken it into serious consideration until now.

“No, no, it’s not inappropriate,” Kamukura finally said, voice low and breathy. For once, he actually felt... somewhat flustered. He felt heat on the tips of his ears and he shook his head to allow some of his hair to fall forward and hide it. “I... am just caught off guard. I’m sorry.”

The urge to reach over and tuck Kamukura's hair behind his ears--to just  _ touch _ his beautiful hair--made Komaeda’s fingers twitch in his lap. His heart was racing and he's sure that if he were to attempt standing his knees would give out. 

"I-I..." He taps his heel on the ground, worrying the fabric of his sleeve, "Don't apologize. This... I... I should not have done that. Truthfully, I have terrible self-preservation skills," A shaking laugh leaves him and his eyes refuse to meet Kamukura's, "If you wish to have me leave, I will do so. I understand if you choose to cancel our agreement, as well. Hah," he blinks at the floor, "I'm quite the failure of a Prince, aren't I? Perhaps I should be executed!" A short laugh leaves him at the morbid joke.

” _ That’s enough. _ ” Kamukura is quick and his voice is stern as he impulsively stands. Once he’s standing he realizes that he’s not really sure what he had thought to accomplish by doing so, but he chooses to remain standing anyway. He grasps at the end of the table for leverage, trying to get the other man to look at him just by staring at him and forcing him to feel his gaze. “Do not put yourself down. Our agreement is not going anywhere and I’m not offended. Although, I must say, you’re lucky that I am one of the few that is accepting of everyone, otherwise execution may have been in your future.” Kamukura swallowed, closing his eyes in thought. This wasn’t a conversation he had expected to have at  _ all,  _ but that was what made it all the more interesting. He opened his eyes again, looking over the timid prince with careful consideration. It seemed that Komaeda didn’t only  _ appear _ fragile; a mere slip of the tongue made him shatter into pieces.

“I...” Kamukura cleared his throat. “I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been taking note of your beauty as we sat here.” He felt his cheeks flush and he brushed one with his knuckles, a bit bothered by this.

Komaeda’s mind feels frozen.  _ What is happening? This was supposed to have been a business meeting. How could he have messed this up so badly? _ He had jumped at Kamukura's intervention and, at the word  _ beauty, _ had snapped his attention back to the man, their eyes locking once more. 

"Y-You... consider me attractive?" His voice is meek as he asks, "I'm hardly anything of the sort... you are very kind." His stomach is twisting into painful knots beneath his suit, the decorative golden chains and medallions clicking as he shifts in his seat. Kamukura's expression is hard to read... in fact, the man himself seems to be a bit of a labyrinth to maneuver. 

"Thank you. Thank you... for... for..." For what? Not killing him on the spot? For the kind words? For not shredding their arrangement to pieces and leaving his sorry excuse for a kingdom to rot? He snaps his mouth shut and sighs, a stressful, harsh noise. "Is there... perhaps..." He mutters, staring up at Kamukura, "A way I could express my gratitude?"

The question made Kamukura’s heart flutter against his chest, and he was swift to move closer to the other man, acting upon impulse. The fact that his brain didn’t seem to be connected to his actions at the moment excited him; anything that couldn’t be predicted was automatically interesting. He had never felt the dizziness in his head that lingered there now and his hands never shook the way that they did when he reached down to place a hand underneath Komaeda’s chin. Kamukura tried his best to remain cool and collected, but being this close to the handsome prince made sweat bead at his hairline. Here he could focus on how long his white eyelashes were and how pretty they looked against gray-green eyes when he batted them. He could see faint traces of freckles against the paper-white skin and he bent down a bit to be closer to him. The prince smelled sweet, like lavender and vanilla.

“If you wish to,” he said quietly, red eyes downcast and focused on the hands fiddling in the white-suited lap, then looking back up at gentle lips, “I am accepting of... simple, physical expressions.”

Komaeda’s eyelids droop at the contact and he leans into it, soaking up the attention he has never been given. Kamukura's eyes remind him of a sea of blood that he is drowning in, completely willing to be pulled beneath the current. Komaeda places his hand over the one under his chin, his fingers ghosting over the warmth there. Distantly, the thought crosses his mind that this is the most dangerous thing he has ever done. It is  _ thrilling.  _ Every piece of his soul is alight with excitement, something he has never felt in his lifetime. His fortune has finally turned, and he sends a small prayer to the heavens that it may last. 

He hesitates a moment before tilting his head and brushing his lips over the palm of Kamukura's hand. Deep within his chest he feels his heart racing, and he's sure that it can be heard across the entire country. His heart is a volcano fit to erupt. He  _ loves _ it. "I... think I would like to kiss you." He says, voice hushed.

Kamukura’s pulse was hammering hard against his neck as Komaeda brushed against his hand, and the excitement that he felt was incomparable to anything else he’d ever felt in his life. He curled his fingers so they could caress the smooth skin of the prince’s jaw. Komaeda was a magnet and he was drawing Kamukura in. He has a moment of sudden realization.

“Of course...” he says out loud, realizing only later that this could have been taken for his answer as well.  _ We are polar opposites... the north and south ends of a magnet drawn toward one another.  _ His free hand blindly reaches for Komaeda’s in his lap and pulls him up; it still bewilders him that the man is somehow taller than he is, and he lets go of the spindly hand in favor of snaking his arm around his waist instead. Using the hand on his chin, Kamukura gently tilted his head opposite of Komaeda’s and leant in, their lips barely brushing as he moved that hand to the back of the prince’s neck, fingers tangled in the light pink hairs on his nape.

“I think,” Kamukura breathed, tightening the arm around the other man’s waist, “I would like that too.”

With only another small beat of hesitation, he connects their lips. It only takes a moment for Komaeda's mind to fully comprehend everything that is happening, and when it hits him he finds himself melting into the kiss, his arms raising up to carefully drape around Kamukura's neck and shoulders. Aside from the breakneck speed at which his heart is racing, the moment feels serene. He feels protected in the arms of the other, as if no harm could ever befall either of the men. It is his first kiss, and he belatedly wonders whether or not he is doing it correctly. It couldn't be hard, could it? The soft feeling of Kamukura's lips against his _ feel  _ correct... so he supposes he should just let the other lead and perhaps, one day, his heart would settle its attempts to escape his ribcage.

Komaeda’s lips are warm and soft and Kamukura felt himself leaning further in, wanting to indulge like this forever. He had never kissed anyone before, but he had read plenty of romance novels out of sheer boredom to have a general idea of how to do it. Upon feeling Komaeda’s arms drape against his shoulders, the dark prince moved his other arm down to meet the one that hugged the man’s waist, holding him for what felt like forever. He wondered what his ancestors would think if they knew he’d kissed someone after just meeting them, let alone a man. They’d be appalled and he’d be excommunicated from their lineage and he’d be forced to live in poverty for the rest of his life.

But their kiss was so pure and gentle and warm; if Kamukura could feel like this for the rest of his life, then it would be worth it.

Enjoying their kiss for just a moment longer, Kamukura finally parted from the other prince, gazing into his eyes foggily for a moment. His head was spinning. Between the expression Komaeda wore and the light, airy feeling in his chest, Kamukura broke out into a smile, laughing gently as he kept close to his guest, not wanting to break from him.

As Kamukura pulls away, Komaeda stares at him. His flushed appearance, the softer tone of his usually cold eyes. He thinks about the portraits he saw in the halls and how very, very different that man is compared to the one standing before him. Simultaneously he feels as though he is flying and falling. The pure joy of the moment paired with the fear of what would come should they be discovered. It's exhilarating and scary and the only thing he can do is stare into Kamukura's ruby eyes as the man _ laughs _ . It's more beautiful than any instrument, more blessed than any early morning songbird he has heard. 

"That was..." his voice is breathy when he speaks, hushed and soft and secretive, "Incredible. You are incredible." He begins to laugh too, a bit because of the disbelief of the moment and partially because the emotions felt nearly overwhelming. "I... now find myself in a difficult situation. It appears I don't want to leave."

Kamukura pressed their foreheads together, sucking in a breath as he was reminded that—technically—Komaeda would have to leave him, and fairly soon. The man in his arms was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever laid eyes on and the thought of him slipping through his fingers made him wince. A hand calloused from many, many years of work carded through the thick white hair, drinking in the blissful expression that Komaeda wore as he continued to run his hand through his hair. This was dangerous,  _ very  _ dangerous, yet Kamukura found himself not caring much of what their kingdoms would think of them.  _ Ah, but that’s foolish... _

“I don’t believe I want you to leave, either,” Kamukura hummed, feeling comfortable enough to reach out and hold Komaeda’s face, caressing flawless skin with his thumb, “but should this get out—even if we do not become involved with each other and only share this kiss—we could both be executed.”

"Should that happen, I will gladly take the fall. You may maintain your innocence. I will say I coerced you into this, my people will be fine without me. They hardly need me anyway." Komaeda laughs, a sad noise, "I've no family. Hardly any friends. It sounds much more sorrowful to say so out loud, but I don't pay it much mind. I merely have me, my legacy, and my fortune." He closes his eyes and sighs before opening them again with a newfound determination, "We never have to speak of this again, if that is what you desire. I will slip away and never return. Say the word."

Kamukura shook his head, surprised at himself as he cupped Komaeda’s cheek and hummed in response. “Although the best course of action would be to proceed with our business deal and pretend this never happened...” He tuned into the lightness of his heart, closing his eyes and opting to go with what he  _ felt _ . So he spoke. “It is no secret that I struggle with emotion. I am not well at expressing them, nor am I good at dealing with them by myself. But.” 

His hands were gentle as he took one of Komaeda’s and pressed it against his chest, holding it there and allowing him to feel the steady thumping against his ribs. The only difference was that it was beating heavily and quickly; it felt like a butterfly trapped in a cage. Its wings brushed the bottom of Kamukura’s throat as it fluttered in joy and in reaction he squeezed the hand pressed against his regal jacket. “I... don’t feel like this. Nothing has ever made my heart do... _ that. _ I don’t want you to slip away. I don’t ‘feel’ often. I want to keep feeling this—whatever this may be.”

The fluttering of a heartbeat beneath his fingers nearly matched the speed of his own as it beat loudly in his red tinted ears. Kamukura keeps...  _ doing that. _ Saying things Komaeda never suspected he would ever hear. Sweet things undeserving of the failure prince. "I feel it too." He presses his hand as close as he can to the other man's chest, shutting his eyes and breathing, "I wish to stay with you. You... you utterly terrify me, and yet," He gives a bewildered smile, "I have never felt safer." He laughs then, tilting his head forward until it falls onto Kamukura's shoulder, "This is absurd." He says between laughs.

Kamukura chuckles through his nose, giving a nod and resting a hand on Komaeda’s back. “This  _ is _ quite absurd, isn’t it?” He tilted his head so he could rest his cheek against white hair. “You shouldn’t be terrified by me. You have captivated me, and even if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t wish to bring harm upon you nor your kingdom regardless.” Kamukura sighed as he considered anyone outside; they were oblivious to the affair, yet he wasn’t sure how long they’d been in here and he didn’t want to raise suspicion. “If we are going to begin trade, then I have an excuse to see you again, but my only concern is how often it will just be us and us alone.” 

He was amazed how quickly the sweet prince had pulled him in, the attraction almost immediate. He couldn’t quite place it but it just felt _ right  _ for Komaeda to be in his arms. They were a puzzle and fit together perfectly; all of the pieces had shifted into place and now they stood complete. It was easy to forget about his kingdom and just live in the moment. He pressed his lips against a pale temple. “When we are not alone, we will have to act as if this never happened, and it will kill me.”

The White Prince shivered at the kiss and nodded, "I can do it. I'll protect you." Due to his inexplicable cycle of luck, Komaeda's life had never been void of excitement. From freak accidents to random curtain fires, he had thought he'd had enough excitement in his lifetime. But  _ this. _ This went beyond excitement. It was divine. It was a thill he would cherish. Sacred. Kamukura smelled of soap and earth and Komaeda wanted to be buried in the scent. 

"I'll come back. I promise you. I'll come back as soon as I can, and as often as I can." His head is spinning with the speed at which this is going. But... in their situation... it had to be fast, didn't it? It was unfair and painful and he finds himself frowning into the crook of Kamukura's neck and shoulder. "...Is this... wrong? I do not see how it could be when it feels so natural. I feel like I have known you for lifetimes."

“I feel as if it has been taught to us to believe that this is wrong, yet I see nothing wrong with pursuing what the heart desires.” Kamukura took Komaeda’s hands and squeezed them, staring into his eyes and praying they didn’t intimidate him again. “Perhaps we have known each other in other lives and were drawn right back to each other. It is certainly interesting to think about. It would explain why you make my heart beat as strangely as it does.” He reached out to tuck a stray white curl behind the flushed ears. He didn’t want to part from him; not this soon. “I will protect you as much as you vow to protect me, if not more. I will find excuses to bring you to me. I wish to get to know you better...” Kamukura’s voice was soft as he tilted his head, black hair falling into his face and requiring him to tuck it back again. “In fact, I don’t believe I remember your first name.”

"Nagito." He breathes, "My name is Nagito." It feels so intimate, like this. Speaking his given name. He feels like he is on fire, being burned alive with every touch and he is a moth getting sucked in by its beauty.

“Nagito,” Kamukura repeats the name on his tongue like a prayer. He smiles gently and isn’t able to hide the small laugh of endearment he breathes out. “It’s beautiful. It only makes sense.” He looks into the pale green eyes and is taken aback by how they glitter, smitten with their color and how well they fit the man who had them. “My name is Izuru.”

"Izuru... Izuru, Izuru... how elegant." He smiles back, "You are single-handedly changing my entire life, Izuru. I have known you not two hours and I believe I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Perhaps it is lucky... all of my misfortunes thus far are being balanced by the joy of meeting you." He laces their fingers together and, cautiously, pressed a dainty kiss to Kamukura's knuckles. "Izuru...  _ Izuru... _ perfect..."

Kamukura couldn’t help but shiver at the sound of his name on the other man’s lips. What Komaeda was saying would have likely shocked him hours before and he would have dismissed him as mad, but given the chain of events, the words he spoke carried such a weight that Kamukura was able to feel them, heavy atop his back. “It’s strange how the heart works that way... you’ve got such a magnetism about you, Nagito, that I feel as if life has brought you right to me. If only we could spend our lives together...” He trailed off; he had only meant to speak his thoughts, yet he found himself dampening his own mood and imagined he likely affected Komaeda’s by mistake. He squeezed the hand that was laced together with his. “I wish it weren’t this complicated. I apologize...”

Komaeda’s gaze turns intense, a soft irritation behind his eyes, "Don't apologize when you have done nothing wrong. We... we will make this work. It will be alright." His smile turns mischievous as he takes Kamukura's hands and places them on his hips, "Aaah! His royal highness, Izuru Kamukura has captured me! I simply cannot return to my kingdom! How unfortunate! Truly a terrible fate!" He laughs, raising his hands up in a false surrender.

_ How sickening sweet. The white of his clothes suits him; he is very pure and light.  _ Kamukura grins, using the grip on his hips to tug him closer suddenly, an arm snaking around his waist and holding the other’s body close to his. “There is no ransom high enough to earn His Highness back. He will forever remain locked in my dungeons. My condolences to the kingdom, but they shall never see their prince again.” He began to laugh too, stress of his everyday life disintegrating into thin air for the time being. He pressed his face into the side of Komaeda’s head, laughing gently there and admiring how warm he was in his arms.

"AH!" The White Prince yelps softly, covering his mouth as  _ giggles  _ erupt from him. "My poor kingdom! What will my cook do now that I am gone? Her sole source of entertainment was pestering me to eat more than my slice of buttered toast!" He laments between laughter, "Trapped forever with a handsome man... nothing to pass the time... whatever shall we do?" He whispers, voice tinted with mirth. He can't remember the last time he felt so...  _ floaty _ . So alive. It has certainly been years, decades even.

“Hmm...” Kamukura pretended to think, tilting Komaeda’s chin with his hand and leaning in with a grin, “‘Handsome man’, huh? Flattery will get you nowhere...” Yet, despite this insistence, Kamukura found himself drawn to the other prince’s lips again, pressing his against Komaeda’s softly before parting after a moment.

This time, the paler man chases the kiss, leaning back down to steal another; his laughter fades until he goes quiet, his smile turning soft. "Izuru..." Komaeda says the name like a prayer, "I have been bold thus far... if... if I may do so again..." He frowns, a bit of the anxiety from when they first met returning, "May I ask a daring question?"

Kamukura kept a hand on Komaeda’s back, sure to keep contact in some way or another. Ruby eyes watched carefully as he brushed stray white wisps of hair out of the man’s eyes. “Of course, Nagito.”

"What... what if I stayed for the night?" He asks, voice small, "My advisors are expecting me back by sundown... but," He smiles shakily, the soothing motions calming his nerves, "We could say the negotiation went too long and I couldn't ride back late after sundown. Negotiations are difficult! Some take so long... I—" He pales, "Perhaps that was too forward of me. I just... don't want to leave you. It's selfish, I know, but..."

“It’s not selfish,” Kamukura interjected, moving to hold his hands again, “that’s incredibly smart, actually. I’d love to have you if you’d truly want to stay for the night. I’d have to alert my servants fairly soon to prepare anything you might possibly need.” He felt his heart skip a beat again as he looked over the gorgeous facial features. “Anything... to keep you near me as long as possible. Perhaps I’m a bit selfish myself.”

Komaeda relaxes again and nods, "That would be wonderful. Our meeting has certainly gone on for a while... politics have become quite difficult, haven't they?" He smirks and pushes their foreheads back together, "I am glad you are selfish... it means I am yours."

“And I am yours.” Kamukura can’t help but connect their lips again; the other prince is intoxicating and he wants nothing more than to get drunk off of his kiss. He breaks it, however, and leaves their foreheads pressed. “Yes, it  _ has _ gone on rather long, hasn’t it? What a thorn in my side you are, so difficult to negotiate with...” Kamukura reached behind himself to tighten the band that kept most of his hair pulled out of his face. “It would likely be best if I inform the servants and advisors of our lack of an agreement. They will have to prepare for you to stay.”

Komaeda huffs, "I suppose so. It really is so frustrating how uncooperative you are." His expression cracks into a smile and he eyes Kamukura's hair, "You should, but you need to manage that first." He points to the locks and hums, "Have you ever worn a braid?"

The Dark Prince tilts his head, pulling the ebony hair to the front of his shoulder. He seems slightly confused, running his fingers through his own hair. His hair is as smooth as water. “I have not; the most I ever do is tie it back. On most occasions, I wear it down.”

"Sit down, I promise it will feel better." Komaeda motions to the chair, "As soon as I am finished, you can traipse around the castle to your hearts fullest content, free to use your eyes once again." He smiles at his joke and brushes the fly away hair from Kamukura's eyes, "It's beautiful. I imagine you take good care of it." His voice goes quiet again, " _ You're  _ beautiful."

Kamukura is unable to keep his eyes open as Komaeda is touching his face, fingertips brushing against his hairline as he tucks long ebony wisps behind his ears. He sits in the chair that is offered to him ( _ how funny, _ Kamukura thinks,  _ to be treated like a guest in my own castle _ ) and lets out a warm chuckle as he tilts his head back to rest against the medallions and regalia on Komaeda’s jacket. “Thank you. I take pride in my appearance and my hair means the most to me. Although, to be called beautiful by such a beautiful man... how ironic.” He flicks ruby eyes upward to be able to see the prince, gaze gentle.  _ My heart has yet to settle down. _

Komaeda shakes his head with a soft laugh and sets to work, removing the band and letting the hair fall loose before burying his hands in it. It's just as soft as he had imagined, and he almost wishes he had gloves so as to avoid directly contacting the locks. The cascade of darkness, so fitting for the prince, is quickly and elegantly plaited. The only strand that refuses to cooperate is the longer piece that tends to fall in front of Kamukura's face. He opts to leave it, allowing his companion to maintain a small bit of his natural mysterious aura. Eventually, he ties it off, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of Kamukura's head, "Done." He whispers, "I almost wish I had some white flowers to place within it. You are ethereal, Izuru."

Kamukura keeps his eyes closed the entire time the other man is toying with his hair. His touch is so gentle and so caring that the dark prince nearly falls asleep, at peace with himself and the situation. The kiss to his head is what brings him back to reality, and his ears flush red at the compliments he is given. There is a mirror close by and he can’t resist getting up to look at the work Komaeda had done. The braid carried the entire way down, growing smaller and smaller as his hair tapered off towards his calves. It had been tied off at the very bottom. Kamukura tilts his head so it can fall to the side and he strokes it admiringly, turning to the other with an expression of appreciation. “It’s gorgeous, Nagito, thank you.” He looks back in the mirror, fingers dipping in between the braids to feel them. “How did you learn to do this? Was your hair long at one point as well?”

"Hah, no, no. I've always kept my hair relatively short." Komaeda says, reaching up to touch it a bit self consciously, "I have quite terrible luck, so I would be afraid it would get tangled on my horse, or, perhaps, something to do with the open fires of the kitchen." He walks up behind Kamukura, looking at him in the mirror with a serene smile and cautiously, slowly, wrapping his arms around his waist, "My mother, on the other hand, liked to keep it long. Everyone says I take after her. White, beautifully long hair. I used to think she was an angel." He sets his chin on Kamukura's shoulder, "I would watch her do it, intricate braids and designs, and one day I asked her to teach me. So... here we are."

Kamukura welcomes the arms around his waist and sets his hands on top of Komaeda’s, leaning his head against his as well. His breath is calm as he listens and hums once his companion is finished. “That sounds very nice,” he says, deep voice soft, “if you take after your mother, then she must have been an amazing woman. For her to have been an angel makes perfect sense, as you are just as heavenly.” He brought a hand up to place it against Komaeda’s cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb and leaving his other hand atop the one on his waist. “I wish I had gotten the opportunity to meet her.”

Tilting his cheek into the touch, Komaeda nods, "I think you two would have gotten on well. She loved to garden, much to the irritation of the cleaning staff." He smiles wistfully, "Her poor dresses took a beating and father always berated her for tracking mud through the back halls." He sighs and shuts his eyes for a moment, before opening them again and meeting Kamukura's in the mirror, "In another lifetime, perhaps. I am certain we shall meet again and again... over and over... the Dark Prince and his clover." His smile turns lopsided as he grins and chuckles, "They could write novels about us!"

The stories of Komaeda’s mother made Kamukura’s chest tighten a bit. He had never known his parents, but the thought of being around such a wonderful soul like the Queen and having to experience losing her made Kamukura ache. He went to give the man his condolences, but the smile that spreads across the beautiful face immediately brightens the mood. He figured it would be best to leave the topic of Komaeda’s parents alone.

“They could. Chasing each other through time, bound to one another for eternity...” Kamukura laughed gently, turning to look the other prince in the face. “What a story that could be.”

He dares to kiss Kamukura again, quickly finding the feeling intoxicating. He knows the man has to leave in a moment, but Komaeda allows himself to be selfish once more, bringing them close and, hesitantly, swiping his tongue over Kamukura's lips. It's daring, and something he isn't even sure is appropriate in this situation, but he trusts whatever guiding force is telling him to do this and pulls back slightly, blushing and feeling his breath pick up. "You have to leave soon." He reminds his companion—lover?—in a hushed voice.

Kamukura doesn’t pull away when Komaeda kisses him again, instinctively tangling his hand in the wild white hair. The tongue on his lips is electric and sends volts down his spine, and when Komaeda pulls back, he almost instinctively tugs him back to feel that electricity again. This was undeniably the most exciting day of his life; he had never felt so many of these things that Komaeda made him feel. It wouldn’t surprise him if he started to see colors around him that he hadn’t seen before, drawn out by the angelic prince.

Kamukura tunes in to the flushed cheeks and quick breath, feeling his own cheeks burning bright. Komaeda’s shallow breaths are nearly contagious, excitement coursing through his veins; the man swallows, nodding and licking his lips. “I do,” he says, and is unable to stop himself from leaning back in, kissing the other yet again.  _ Such magnetism you have... I wonder if you do this to others like you do to me. _

He kisses back, comforted by the enthusiasm he's receiving. He hums into the kiss and opens his mouth, attempting to swipe his tongue again. And god, he is  _ terrified _ . Something about this, about kissing so heatedly in an unlocked stone room, makes his blood run cold in fear. On the other hand, he has never felt more protected. Kamukura clutching him close, a hand in his hair as Komaeda runs his own hands over the other's chest... it all feels  _ right. _ Two parts of the same fallen star. It's dizzying.

The close contact set Kamukura’s senses on fire, and the hands that moved across his chest were making him suddenly aware of how hard he was breathing. He felt Komaeda’s tongue on his lips again and the subsequent current that shot down his spine was enough to ease his previous nerves about whether or not he should have proceeded. He opened his mouth too, intrigued and actually  _ excited _ as he coolly flicked his tongue against Komaeda’s; this was yet another thing he had read about but had obviously never experienced—previously, the thought slightly disgusted him, but he supposed that could be blamed on the fact that he had never been attracted to anyone before. And now here he stood, kissing feverishly with someone who he had only just met, feeling foolish for ever thinking that such an action could have been anything but enjoyable. The strong hand that had been within Komaeda’s hair shifted down to the small of his back and gripped the fabric of the intricate jacket, unable to place  _ why  _ he did it, save for the singular thought that it just felt correct.

The feeling of Kamukura's tongue against his is blazing. Everything is moving at such a fast pace and in any other situation he might find it odd, or even inappropriate, but it feels so  _ right  _ that he can't even be bothered by it. The breakneck speed feels  _ good _ and he wants to get lost in it. He dives in further, exploring the other's mouth as a knight explores the dragon's cave. He feels drunk off it. 

Kamukura was entirely lost in everything that was happening to the point where he forgot about the guards outside the door. The hand on the back of Komaeda’s coat gripped tighter and he continued to kiss and lick at the swollen lips and mouth that was just as eagerly kissing him back. The feeling of Komaeda’s tongue in his mouth was entirely foreign but he was welcome to it, letting out a hum when they parted for air again. He felt debauched and lightheaded as he panted, looking at the other with ruby eyes fogged by desire.

"Izuru..." he gasps, pulling away for only a moment to breathe before connecting their mouths once more. He knows Kamukura needs to go, he needs to so that this can continue, but  _ God,  _ if it isn't so infuriatingly addictive.

Kamukura didn’t push away when Komaeda leant back in for more, kissing him hard and experimentally dragging his teeth along the bottom lip of the pale prince. After a moment of this, as his head cleared a bit of the high he was feeling, he furrowed his brow and let out a hum, lightly pressing his hand against Komaeda’s chest to nudge him away. 

“Nagito, I...” His mouth and chin felt incredibly wet and he wiped them on the back of his hand, brushing it against his slacks. He lets out a small laugh at the sight of the other royal looking just as unkempt, expression somehow so innocent still even though they had just done societally inappropriate things unfit for princes. (But the adrenaline rush was absolutely worth it.)

“I need to go. Any longer and I fear suspicion.” Kamukura looked back into the mirror, legs shaking from the thrill of it all. He began to toy with his appearance, praying he could pass like usual and not accidentally cause any rumors by leaving something out of place. “As much as I want to stay here and indulge with you, there can be time for this later...”

_ Later.  _ Komaeda attempts to steady his breathing, nodding and straightening his jacket too. The phantom feeling of teeth on his lips make them tingle and shocks of warmth spider through his chest. He feels like he is standing on the sun, burning alive behind the one who placed him there. Kamukura's appearance is entirely disheveled, with red tinted lips, cheeks, and ears, his pupils blown wide and breath erratic. Komaeda finds himself smirking at the thought that  _ he did that to him. _ The usually put together, stoic prince looks so incredibly shocked and bleary. Nevertheless, he nods and sighs, placing a hand over his chest and feeling the steady thumping of his fast beating heart. 

"Yes... yes." The fear of getting caught outweighs his want for more, as he had promised to protect Kamukura. "We can... negotiate... more later into the night." He says, glancing away to stare at the bland stone brick walls in a valiant attempt at casualty.

The Dark Prince takes a moment more to fret over his own appearance before moving to Komaeda and beginning to fix him up as well. “We can’t leave any sort of evidence that this happened,” he whispered, straightening the golden regalia that had gotten knocked out of place, “or else we will never see each other again and be killed.”

The smile fades from Komaeda’s face and he nods, chewing his lip as his nervous aura returns.

"Y-Yes. Of course." He watches Kamukura make him look presentable again and steels himself, wiping his mouth once more. "No one will know. I swear it. I said I will protect you and I will stand by that until my last breath."

“And I stand by mine.” Kamukura’s eyes flick from where they were focused on his medallions up to the man’s face, gaze gentle and smiling softly as he continued to adjust the gold. “The only issue I can see occurring tonight is this—they often keep the guest rooms on the other end of the castle from mine for security reasons. I am always guarded, and because you are also royalty, you will likely be guarded too.” His expression fell and he finished his adjustments, smoothing his own regal jacket. “It will be near impossible for one of us to slip away from our room, let alone into the other’s.”

Komaeda hums and shakes his head, "I often tend to have luck on my side... perhaps I can put my faith in that. I swear to you, I will find a way." His fingers itch to caress Kamukura once more, to give a parting kiss... to whisper more intimate things for his ears alone. But he restrains, sighing and turning away, worrying the sleeve of his jacket. "I will think of you until we meet again. When I close my eyes, the darkness will be your hair. The warmth of the sun is your smile... I will see you again. I swear it."

Kamukura’s heart thumps hard against his ribcage; he tries to default to his normal stoic demeanor, but with such a gentle being there giving off such a warm, loving aura, a smile twitches against his lips and his eyes are melted from their usual icy feel. “I will see you in every beautiful thing I am exposed to. Whether it be the white of the flowers that decorate the gardens or the intricacy of the paintings that decorate my halls, my mind will move to the angelic prince who is but a petty thief in disguise, sent here to steal my heart.” Wanting some sort of parting closure, he reaches for the fragile hand of the other man, bringing it to his lips and lightly pressing a sighing kiss to his knuckles. After a moment, Kamukura guides Komaeda’s hand back to his own side, giving it a final squeeze before letting it go. He closed his eyes and turned, walking halfway toward the door before turning his head. He can’t bear to look at him, otherwise he will succumb again. “From here on out, we must feign as enemies—or contempt for the other, at the very least. It will pain me, but I believe that is the best way to cover our tracks as best as we can.”

Komaeda nods before realizing the other isn't fully looking at him, "I understand." He is determined, and he is impressed to find that his voice doesn't falter, "I'll act the part, as the reward will be worth it. Until tonight." He says, voice soft.

“Until tonight,” he repeats, and with a small voice, advises, “when I open this door, do not follow after me.”

He keeps his back to the other man as he grabs the intricate brass handle on their side of the stone, pulling the heavy door open with one hand. Guards turned their heads to peer in to see if everything was alright, but Kamukura’s steps were full of haste and annoyance as he walked off down the hall, ignorant to calls after him. A few officials followed suit and hurried after him, leaving behind a few guards and Komaeda in his wake.

They were at first confused as to what to do with the neighboring prince, but shortly after, an advisor returned and explained that the Prince was frustrated with the lack of an agreement on their trade deals; the advisor stumbled and almost revealed a slew of insults that Kamukura had aimed at the other prince, but was quick to shut their mouth. As a court, they agreed to extend the meeting another day and ordered nearby servants to prepare Komaeda a room while they struggled to think of how to entertain the monarch while repeatedly apologizing for Kamukura’s coldness.

The Dark Prince had been correct when he had predicted Komaeda would be placed on the opposite side of the castle. It was a beautiful room nonetheless, decorated complexly with expensive objects from faraway kingdoms with a massive canopy bed pressed flush against the wall. This particular guest room had a balcony much like the prince’s did, allowing the occupant to peer out atop the front courtyard. They had brought the prince as many things to entertain him as they thought possible (which mostly persisted of a handful of books from the castle library) and locked him away, putting him under heavy guard under fear of offending him any further than he already likely was.

The night had still been somewhat young when there was a knock at the guest door; it had to have been no later than eight. A woman’s voice was on the other side, gentle and sweet. 

“Prince Komaeda? I am a servant sent to assist you. Will you please open the door so I can fulfill my duties?”


	2. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a secret meeting and additional negotiations bring a plan to the table, even if that plan doesn't actually involve trade deals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! this chapter does have an 18+ scene--it ties in with the plot and is actually super sweet and nice, but i still felt the need to make a warning anyway. that scene is not the only part of this chapter!
> 
> ALSO a reminder that this was a collab with @yoshis.tongue on instagram!!
> 
> enjoy xx

Komaeda raises his head from the book he had been poring over, trying in vain to distract himself from the deep longing he felt knowing Kamukura was so  _ close, _ yet so out of reach. He had scoped out every corner of the room, eyeing the balcony and coming up with every absurd plan he could think of to get back into his arms. All of which were far too risky to attempt, and, eventually he had given up and picked up one of the books provided by the staff. The whole ordeal had made him frustrated beyond belief, and he steeled himself before moving.

He scrambles up from his desk, book immediately forgotten, and opens the door with a hurried, "Yes, of course."

The swift movement made the woman on the other side flinch, and she hadn’t expected him to be quite so tall; she was tiny on her own, but next to Komaeda she was especially short. Her hair was a soft mauve and she almost appeared tired, yet soft, pink eyes were full of life as she blinked up at him. She quickly regained her composure and bowed to the prince, clearing her throat.

“May I come in?”

Komaeda nods and moves aside, opening the door fully before closing it behind both of them. He takes in her appearance as she moves past him, her soft features delicate.  _ So unlike Kamukura.  _ His traitorous mind provides and he mentally shoos the thought away. "I apologize for my sudden movement. The meeting with his highness left me in quite the mood." ...It wasn't  _ entirely _ a lie, he supposed. "Being cooped in here has certainly not helped. I feel a bit like a caged animal." He blinks and frowns, "Not that the Prince has not been generous. I am very honored to stay in such a lovely kingdom. You maintain it well." Mentally he is kicking himself, slapping himself, and being trampled by his own horse.

“Ah! I’m so, so sorry, many apologies,” she bows again, her movements calculated yet effortless at the same time, “I’m sure you have heard many things about Prince Kamukura. He isn’t exactly the...  _ friendliest _ and can be a bit cold sometimes.” The girl smiles gently and moves over to fuss with the bedsheets and quilt. “I had gotten the pleasure of growing up with him, so do know he is not always like this; he is just a bit bad at expressing himself and his thoughts. My parents are servants as well, so I was raised in the quarters while he was raised in the castle. As we grew older, I became his personal servant, but I was instructed to shift my focus to you until your visit is over.” 

The woman does not look at Komaeda much; it would be rude for a lowly servant to take in too much of a higher being. “If you wish for anything at all, you may request me to the guards by name, which is Nanami.”

She is clearly seasoned at her job, moving to adjust the curtains and chairs and anything that appears to be out of place. “Your compliments to the kingdom will be much appreciated by the prince, I think. I will pass them on. I will now be silent for the remainder of your visit unless you speak to me.”

Komaeda listens intently, watching her poised movements as she busies herself around the room. He sighs at her formalities, shaking his head, "That is very kind of you, thank you, but you are free to speak as you wish." He laughs lightly, seating himself back down at the small reading desk, "In fact, most of the servants in my home kingdom treat me as a friend. Status may mean a lot in this world, but I value kindness. It is nice to meet you, Nanami. My name is Komaeda." 

Her story intrigues him. Kamukura as a small child was probably a sight to behold. Komaeda attempts to picture his stoic features shrunken into a small, rosy-cheeked face and finds it incredibly difficult. "The Prince as a child is certainly an... interesting thought."

Nanami bows at his greeting again. She is inspecting the room for anything she might have overlooked, but the mentioning of Kamukura breaks her concentration a bit. She chuckles lightly. “He has always been an old soul. I would always want to play when we both had downtime, but most of the time he would just sit and watch me while I played with my dolls or played pretend. I would drag him along and he would let me, but he was never very interested in much.” Her voice falls hushed and she glances at the door, fearful of anybody overbearing her; if she were caught directly spreading rumors to a monarch of another kingdom, she could be punished by death if Kamukura wouldn’t be able to convince the court not to execute her.

“There have been rumors ever since his arrival that he is a changeling. There was never a King or Queen of this kingdom that I can remember, strangely enough; Kamukura was raised by servants and maids. No one knows where he came from. Other servants have been whispering about the lonely prince ever since I was little. The main focus is the fact that he looks borderline inhuman with his red eyes and long black hair—his struggle with emotions only solidifies that theory.” She shrugged. Now that her superior had officially forgone formalities, she seemed a lot more lax.  _ This _ Nanami was the one that Kamukura knew, but only when they were alone. “If he were a changeling, it certainly would be interesting to think about what the human baby he replaced would have looked like. I’m afraid that Kamukura is most definitely human himself though, so I hope I didn’t happen to stir your interest in that gossip at all.”

_ Fascinating. _ Komaeda thinks, placing an elbow on the desk and humming. He  _ knows _ Kamukura is human. He has seen it firsthand. Seen the blushes and the soft, gentle touches. He huffs a laugh and shakes his head, "Changeling... how absurd. I think he is incredibly kind." He blinks, "Uh, er, despite our current disagreement, that is," he recovers, waving his hand in the air. This is proving to be incredibly difficult while he is talking with Nanami. The guards were easy--they hardly asked questions and, with the occasional testy comment about Kamukura, solidified their story of mutual irritation. Nanami was different though; she knew Kamukura was--deep down-- _ sweet _ . He was human, and so very kind and understanding of Komaeda. 

"I could see how his appearance could be off putting," He says, careful about choosing his words, "I find them to be more... intriguing."

Nanami tilted her head with a smile, moving closer but still maintaining distance between them. “I understand. They intrigue me too; I understand that he is human, but something about him remains ethereal or supernatural.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Is that what you think, too?”

He looks into the distance, his gaze traveling past the balcony and into the courtyard, "Hm... yes." He says, eyes softening at the edges. "Ethereal. I could see it. His hair is so long; I wonder how he maintains it so well." He snaps back to attention and sits up again, laughing, "The length is similar to a woman's, don't you agree? Very odd for a male. I assume he has many women in line for a place as his queen."

“He does not, actually.” Nanami glances out onto the balcony as well, expression crestfallen. “He used to. Any woman they’d bring in to try and arrange marriage with, he was very cold and brooding and would flat out refuse to entertain them. Princess Sonia Nevermind of Novoselic has been here multiple times but he very rarely will leave his room to visit.” She let out a sigh, tucking soft hair behind her ear. “No matter how many of these women were brought in, or even if balls are held, Kamukura will ignore every single one. This of course began to spread around, so suitable consorts no longer wanted to meet him. This has never bothered him, though; the Prince was never one for ‘feeling’ anything, let alone attraction that was pretty much forced upon him.”

Komaeda's heart races in his chest and he nods along, "Hm, that is... incredibly interesting. And surprising. Or perhaps not, considering his cold aura." He looks back to Nanami, eyeing her, "Are... you interested in him romantically? You seem quite fond of him." It's not as though he is  _ jealous _ , but... perhaps it stings a bit to think that even someone like Nanami would be more suitably accepted than Komaeda. His chest aches and he denies his desire to glance back to the balcony.

Nanami blinks in surprise for a moment before laughing and shaking her head. “No, no, I am not. Although they did extend his courtship to any of the women in the kingdom who could possibly woo him, I have no desire to be Queen. Nor does he desire making me Queen, I don’t believe. We are merely friends...” She trails off before biting her lip and correcting herself should anybody outside hear, “ _ Were _ . Were friends. Now I am but his servant, and though we still talk like we used to, the court is not kind of me calling my lowly self a friend of His Highness.”

"The court may sew their mouths shut for all I care." Komaeda huffs, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, "I do not care for their opinions of the castes. People are just people. Of course, some are more talented than others, but never have the capability of expressing it because of their situations." He frowns, "I have... never been very good at my position. I'm a bit of a shortfall when it comes to ruling a kingdom."

“Because you’re new at it, right?” Nanami’s voice was gentle and her face was soft with pity. “Many of us have heard about it—not through the Prince, but just hearsay. My condolences, Your Highness.” Nanami bowed her head a bit in respect. “Bumps and obstacles are to be expected, must I say. You will figure it out. Things will come easier to you, I promise.”

His frown melts away into a gentle smile, "Thank you, Nanami. You are very kind. It has been... difficult, if I am being honest. What happened to them was such a terrible fate to have met, but the serving staff has been very helpful to me, along with my advisors. But... I hope that this trade deal with Prince Kamukura will benefit both of us in the long run." 

Nanami nodded in understanding. “I could only imagine how you are feeling. My thoughts are with you.”

_ Damn it... _ He had almost gotten the prince out of his mind, but now his thoughts are flooded with red eyes and dark hair and... God, he just wanted to see him. "I supposed the Prince and I both come from odd circumstances."

The servant tilted her head with a curious smile. “Perhaps.” 

Tired, Nanami lets out a sigh, glancing around at the room for a final time. “I shall leave you be, Your Highness. However, before I leave, do you request anything of me? I can bring you new linens or towels, or food if you are hungry.”

Komaeda thinks for a moment. This may be the only chance he has at leaving this room. If there is one thing he can believe in, it's his indescribable luck. 

"There is one thing." He drops his voice down, putting a lot of faith in the woman before him, "Is there... perhaps... a way that I may speak to the Prince in his quarters? There are more things I wish to discuss about our trade, and I fear that if I were to sleep with it trapped in my mind, it would slip away in my dreams." The prince worries the hem of his jacket, a more casual attire than the one he had arrived in, but proper nonetheless. It always irked him. The ball of anxiety reforms in his stomach, and he suddenly wonders if he has made a terrible, horrible mistake.

Nanami sucks in a breath, averting her gaze. It is clear that she is assessing her options in her mind, not wishing to bother the Prince this late at night concerning business affairs, but she was technically assigned to Komaeda now and could not disobey him. Furrowing her brow in determination, she gave him a quick nod, her cheeks slightly puffed. “I can go to him and see what his opinion is. If he wishes to continue discussion this late, then I will come back to retrieve you. I will return nonetheless to give you the answer.”

Komaeda relaxes slightly, visibly slumping a bit, "Thank you, Nanami. You have no idea how important this is to me." He smiles at her, "I will be sure to put in some sort of good word for you. You are a wonderful person."

The smile that spreads across her face is genuine and bright and she folds her hands at her chest. “It is my honor, your Majesty.” Nanami’s steps are quiet as she leaves, shutting the door behind her.

Komaeda immediately slumps, sighing heavily and putting his face in his hands. This is  _ draining. _ He's exhausted from having to keep up the charade. Nanami seemed nice enough, but even kindness can't be trusted here. He moves back to his book with a look of distaste, a nervous energy beginning to overtake him. After only a few sentences, he gives up entirely, throwing the book down with more force than he intended and standing. He struts to the balcony, staring across the courtyard before casting his gaze upwards. The night sky had always fascinated him, the intricate stars above, some larger than others, some tinted orange. Always moving, shifting. Never the same. He sighs and leans his elbows on the small wall, gazing over. It's unbelievably unfair that the stars may have their freedom on display as they do. He would join them in an instant if it meant he could experience it as well. A burning starts behind his eyes and he blinks hard, sighing sharply.  _ Unfair.  _ **_Unfair._ **

It is about a half hour later when Nanami returns, knocking gently on the door. This time she does not request to come in. She speaks through the door.

“Prince Komaeda, His Highness does not mind continuing the conversation into the night. I can lead you to him if you wish.”

The prince straightens from where he is seated, having moved the chair to the balcony to watch the night sky more. He tries his hardest to hide his excitement, but it leaks out into his movements. "Excellent! I am very honored to speak to His Majesty again. The negotiations are eating away at my very mind." He hurries over to the door, his energy having returned tenfold.

Nanami blinks, surprised at his sudden enthusiasm, but she chooses to ignore it, turning on her heel to lead him through the corridors. She shuts the guest room door behind them and the guards that were assigned to Komaeda remain there, guarding whatever belongings he may have had inside. The stone hallways were darker this time of night, thick velvet curtains drawn and very few servants hadn’t completed their duties yet. Nanami said nothing as she took him through a different hallway and through a stone door not unlike the one that Kamukura had opened for him earlier. There were lots of twists and turns within the castle; this had been on purpose, of course, to confuse any assassins and thwart any thieves. Nanami took a breath as she gently pushed on another door, revealing a staircase inside. 

“We are almost there,” she assured him, emerging onto an upstairs level, “it is just down this hall.”

They passed the library, which was made evident by the smell of old paper and disintegrating binding that lingered in the hallway outside of its door. Of course it made sense that the Prince’s room was the one on the far end of that same hall, two big grand doors signaling his quarters. (That and the two guards that stood outside.)

They both stepped aside as Nanami and Komaeda approached, allowing the small woman to rap on the thick door with her knuckles. “Your Highness, it is me,” she spoke, voice purposeful and loud so he could hear her, “I have brought Prince Komaeda.”

There is a beat of silence before the heavy door opens outward, opting Nanami to step back a bit. Kamukura peers out, eyes stone cold yet nowhere near menacing toward his servant. His gaze flicks to Komaeda and he is barely able to contain a glitter behind ruby eyes; as quick as it came, though, he returns to normalcy.

“Thank you Nanami; you are dismissed.” The woman bows and takes one last look at Komaeda before turning and continuing the way that she had come. The Prince looked to his guards and pointed at the end of the corridor.

“As these are serious negotiations we are making, I am ordering you to stand your guard at the end of the hall rather than at my door. My walls are rather thin—I do not want to risk anyone overhearing these deals.”

As the guards followed their orders and started toward the other end, Kamukura glanced at Komaeda uninterestedly and looked him up and down, pushing his door open a bit wider so he could enter.

“Are you that impatient that you couldn’t wait until the morning to continue negotiations? I was about to sleep; what a nuisance of a prince you are.”

Komaeda smirks as he walks in, "Hm, well, I seem to be taking this much more seriously than you, Your  _ Highness. _ Our  _ negotiations  _ were keeping me awake, the thought of them ever present in my mind. I care for my kingdom greatly." As he moves past Kamukura, he brushes their hands together. Fast enough that, to the unaware, it would have seemed like an accident. To Komaeda, it felt like a thrill. "Oh, and ‘nuisance’? Is that any way to speak to your guest?"

Kamukura’s heart thumps against the skin of his neck and he turns to ensure the guards weren’t going to intervene before shutting the door behind him.

He instantly wraps his arms around Komaeda and presses a warm kiss into his cheek, choosing to go into autopilot and allow his heart to think for him. He doesn’t want to overthink emotions right now and just focuses on the physical effect being around this man had on him. He liked how it felt when his heart fluttered when he’d kiss the pale prince, so he kissed his cheek again with just as much passion. Kamukura smells clean, and so does Komaeda, and he buries his face in the side of the white hair, sighing in temporary relief.

“No... it isn’t. Pardon me for being such a rotten host.”

Komaeda melts into the embrace, sighing happily as the kiss was planted on his cheek. It feels so right to do this. He feels whole in a way he never would have expected. "I missed you," he whispers, earnest, his voice nearly cracking from the strain behind the words, "I did not know I was capable of such despair. Not seeing you felt torturous." He laughs as Kamukura buries into his hair, " _ Izuru. _ "

“I’ve missed you too,” Kamukura breathes, keeping a hand on Komaeda’s waist and bringing the other to the back of his neck, “it is funny... how we met only hours before, yet this has felt like an eternity that we spent apart.”

His hair was half braided—mostly toward the bottom—and was falling out of its style from the prince’s poor attempt at a braid after he’d washed it. He can’t bring himself to let go of the other, closing his eyes as he enjoys the warmth of Komaeda in his arms. In a way, he was terrified that he had never felt so intensely in his life until the Prince had shaken his hand earlier that day. On the other hand, he had been so, so lonely his entire life, and to feel so  _ whole _ was so satisfying, so  _ fulfilling _ to him, that he could have died right there holding Komaeda and he would have been satisfied.

Komaeda pulls back, looking at Kamukura in his entirety before raising up and kissing him. Like a final puzzle piece. Like the last star in a constellation. It feels  _ perfect _ . He pulls away, looking into the red eyes he could disappear in. 

"Nanami seems lovely. I found it hard to hide things from her. She's... kind. It felt wrong to lie. But I am so, so grateful to her and she has no idea as to why." He giggles, taking Kamukura's face in both his hands, cradling his jaw like a precious piece of china, "It may have only been a short while, but... I do believe I am finding myself to... to be falling in love with you."

Kamukura hums, carding his fingers through the thick curls he’d grown to cherish. “Nanami is the only person who has never given up on me. I hold her close to my heart; I’m glad to hear that she has treated you kindly as well.” As the soft hands held his jaw, Kamukura allowed himself to close his eyes. Between Komaeda’s words and actions, the Dark Prince grew overwhelmed with a tightness in his chest, feeling his eyes sting. His entire life he had been treated like a monster with plenty of people fearing him because of his appearance and his seemingly-cold personality; to be treated with fragility and told such tender things was so foreign to him, but it felt  _ so good _ . To be considered with love and care and seen as a person—not as a husk—made his heavy heart skip beats.

He blinked his eyes open when he felt something hot slip down his cheek. He opted to ignore it, looking over into pale gray eyes as his own burned. Kamukura sucked in a breath as he smiled, brushing his knuckles against the beautiful cheek across from him.

“I... I believe that is what I have been feeling, too.” Kamukura’s deep voice was uncharacteristically tight and small, and tears left tracks down his rosy cheeks, yet the smile on his face was so blissful that it seemed out of place. “I am unfortunately not able to place it, but... I truly think you are destined to be the love of my life.”

Something keeps Komaeda in place, watching as the man before him begins to weep. It's beautiful and heart wrenching and he feels like his entire life was meant to lead up to this moment. He smiles, a little sadly, and rubs his thumbs over Kamukura's cheeks. 

"Why do you weep, my prince?" He asks, bringing their faces together. As he does so, he feels his own eyes begin to burn and his smile turns watery. His chest  _ aches _ with emotion. Good, bad, terrifying, soft emotions all swirling together into a mess of... whatever this is. "It is okay to. You must allow it. I feel it too... and we feel it together. It is love in its purest form and I am willing to do anything to keep it alive. You," he presses a chaste kiss to Kamukura's lips, "are worth it."

Kamukura says nothing. He is instead engulfed by everything that is happening, his breath shallow and uneven as he keeps his face pressed to Komaeda’s. Tears flow freely and he makes no effort to wipe at them; they roll down his chin and drip onto his silk nightshirt, darkening the fabric. 

“Love,” he repeats after a while, bringing his arms up to drape over Komaeda’s shoulders. He presses a gentle, quick kiss to the lips of the other man. He has grabbed a thin wrist in order to capture a hand in his own, squeezing it and holding it close to his chest. His own hand is trembling. “This is what ‘love’ feels like...?”

Komaeda nods almost imperceptibly, their noses bumping, "Yes." He breathes, "I love you. I will say it again and again because I am so deathly certain of the feeling. I have--I have never so much as held another's hand before you." He feels Kamukura tremble and his heart tugs again, urging his next words of comfort.

"It's alright," he whispers, smiling, "You can feel it as much as you wish. We are our own secret. You are safe." He tangles a hand in the loose mess of a braid, feeling a tug of affection that Kamukura had attempted to replicate his handiwork.

Kamukura feels as if he were made of porcelain as he nods at Komaeda’s words, his mind gravitating toward every syllable he said like it were scripture. “I love you,” he said, trusting in Komaeda’s guidance that this truly  _ was _ what he was feeling—and even without his reassurance, deep down his gut told him that this was absolutely correct. He pressed their cheeks together, letting out a sigh of both relief and affection, half slumping into the light prince.

“Nagito, Nagito...” Kamukura whispered, the hand within his hair making him shiver from its gentleness, “I love you, Nagito. Thank you for everything you have done for me. You have managed to change my life in a single day; I have been so bored without you. I spent my days holed up in the library, rereading books I have already read twice, hoping and praying for a change that would make things a bit more interesting.”

He nearly goes slack standing against Komaeda, comfortable enough to do so and enjoying the physical feeling of being held. “I do not wish to entertain any more women. I am devastated... that I cannot court you. I cannot take you as my husband and King and I cannot live out the rest of my days with—“ he takes in a sharp breath, closing his eyes against Komaeda’s cheek, “—with my love. With my Nagito. My beautiful angel.”

Komaeda’s heart is shattering in his chest while simultaneously being rebuilt by Kamukura's words. An endless cycle of ache and adoration. He wants to scream at the unfairness of their love, weep into his pillows as he did as a child who didn't get his way; he wants to do all of this and more just to express his  _ pain _ . It is unfair. He wishes for nothing more than to run away with the Prince. He would die for him, he knows he would. There would never be a nobler thing to hang for than true, unfiltered love. In an attempt to keep his emotions strong for the other, tremors run through him, tears trapped behind determined, stinging eyes. 

"I-I..." His voice crumples, only a moment away from turning into a sob. He raises a hand to cover his mouth, hugging Kamukura closer to him with his other, "I do not think I could ever love anyone else. I do not wish to. You are all I desire. You—" He breaks off into a sob, angry at himself for breaking so easily. He feels weak, scared and small from the weight of all of this. The only grounding thing is Kamukura's arms around him and the smell of his hair. "I-I am so sorry. I'm so sorry." He repeats, "I wish nothing more than to spend my life with you. To rule a kingdom together and see you as my night, every day of my life, as I wake up to the sun." He feels as though he is being ripped apart with every breath he takes. It  _ hurts. _

Kamukura’s expression only contorts more at the sound and feel of Komaeda sobbing into him. He tightens his grasp and gently pulls the other prince onto the ground with him, his knees trembling so badly that he thought he would collapse if he stood any longer. His tears thickened and he pressed his lips to the side of Komaeda’s head, leaving them there as they wept together. He pulled his lover partially into his lap to hold him closer; the tie at the bottom of his loose braid had fallen out and dark black hair pooled around him. How funny it was that the only time Kamukura had felt such strong emotion that it was forbidden. It wasn’t right that they couldn’t love one another only because they were both men. If it were up to only him, he would change that rule and allow whomever to love who they wish—however, if he were to even bring it up to his court, they would likely begin conspiring against him.

“I want to love you freely, as you deserve to be loved so openly and so strongly.” Kamukura cradled the pale prince, rubbing the back of his head and tangling his fingers in his hair once more. “What is ironic is that I am sure it won’t be long before rumors circulate about my sexuality, anyway. I refuse to consider any women that are brought to me; not because I am exclusively into men, but because I do not believe that love can be forced as such.” He pulled away to cup a shaking hand against Komaeda’s quivering jaw, and he used his index finger to swipe away a tear that rolled down his perfect cheek. “I do not have a ‘type’, as I believed I was never capable of attraction until I met you. But the longer I refuse these women, the higher the chance of gossip spreading, and eventually, the entire kingdom will believe it. I will most likely be executed regardless.” 

Kamukura is still in tears as he gently presses his lips to Komaeda’s. “The thought of dying for you and only you is much more appealing than dying in vain a decade or so from now. Such a perfect male—an Adonis; anyone within their right mind would put their life on the line for you. In fact, it is rather foolish for you to even remain with me... you could live a long, happy life in your reign and forget about me once I am dead.” He sucks in a harsh, shaking breath through his nose and forces a smile, hand still on the prince’s face. “To know that you are prospering would be enough for me to die happy.”

Another muffled sob wracks through Komaeda, his shoulders shaking with it. He shakes his head fervently, "No, no, never say that. I... I do not think I could live without you. You are my destiny." He sniffs, laughing hollowly, "Don't you see, my love? I would do the same for you. My life is... much more meaningless. Worthless. Even now, as I am gone, my kingdom continues on without me. I have little chance of carrying on my legacy, for even if I found a wife, I..." He leans into the hand, making eye contact with Kamukura through watery vision, "I am ill, Kamukura. You mustn't alarm yourself, but it will certainly cause problems for my future." He laughs again, the sound coming out as a bewildered sob, "How unfortunate. My misfortunes continue to grow..."

Kamukura could feel his heart stop and the room grew still as his fingers twitched and curled against the defined jaw. “You are ill...?” His voice was strained, his heart picking back up but racing so fast he thought it would burst from his chest. He leans closer to the prince across from him and squeezes his hands so tightly he could have broken the fragile fingers. His voice is desperate now. “Nagito, please, tell me what is wrong...”

Komaeda looks away, suddenly feeling so unable to meet those piercing red eyes. It is shameful, how unfortunate his life is, and try as he might to hide it, he knows that word spreads fast. Rumors of the Unlucky Prince, in his kingdom, circulate quickly. "I am surprised you were unaware." He says, sniffling as his sobs finally cease, shame still tearing at him, "It is a disease of the mind and body. The doctors say I am to wither away slowly, my mind leaving me first. I already have symptoms of it." He frowns, eyes trained on the floor, "I do not want you to pity me. If you do, I will leave this instant." He knows he wouldn't and the threat is an empty one, but... he experiences far too many sorrowful glances from the castle staff at his home. He always has; even since he was a child, he has had misfortunes that haunt him like a raincloud above his head.

The Dark Prince isn’t quite sure what to say, allowing those words to soak in fully. He still keeps those frail hands in his, loosening his grip a bit but maintaining movement by rubbing his thumbs against Komaeda’s knuckles. Kamukura almost cannot process this, but upon deeper thought, he realizes that the prince’s superficial fragility was likely a result of his internal fragility as well.

“But you are so young.” He states, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. It was foolish of him. Komaeda already knew this. He is poring his mind for any knowledge of such a disease, but he cannot think of any described like that; he curses himself for perhaps overlooking it. Glassy ruby eyes flick back to the other man and he takes one hand to gently push Komaeda’s chin up so he can look him in his beautiful face. “How on Earth have you been cursed with such a terrible thing? I have never heard of a disease like this. Are you sure they are not lying to you?”

Komaeda shrugs, "Perhaps they are, who am I to say? I'm no physician." He looks into Kamukura's eyes, hating that he put that sorrowful expression on his face, "but I can feel it. I have... moments. Moments where I lose myself." He shakes his head, shame and guilt curling heavy in his chest, "I... we do not have to talk about this. It is upsetting you. We should be celebrating!" He gives a weak smile, "We are together for now, a-and..." He falters with a sigh, "I apologize."

The other man shakes his head in response, brow furrowed seriously. “Do not apologize. There is nothing for you to apologize for.” He reaches out to pull Komaeda closer and glances over to the door, realizing he forgot to lock it. He prayed they would be fine on the rug for the time being. “It is indeed an amazing thing that we can be together now... I will cherish every second you are here in my arms, my love.” He begins to run his fingers through the hair he’d come to admire so much, fingertips catching on thick curls; his eyes are closed in thought. “Although, if you say that your life will be cut short—and mine very well could be if the people start to talk—then perhaps it is not impossible for us to be together until our dying days after all.”

"I must apologize, for you have fallen in love with the unlovable." Komaeda curls against Kamukura's chest, feeling so, so protected even as every ounce of him fills with fear and anguish.

“Do  _ not  _ call yourself unlovable. You are far from it; you are carved in the likeliness of the gods and have a heart that matches your outward beauty. If you are unlovable, then how could I feel this way...?” Kamukura’s voice is harsh at the criticism, yet he is so, so gentle with him, sighing as Komaeda touches his chest. 

"We..." The pale prince clutches onto the robes beneath him, his fingertips brushing over Kamukura's chest, "We could run away together." He says, voice meek. "I don't know where to. But I would travel the world for you. I've known you but a day and I believe that if we were to part, I would surely die of a broken heart." It sounds silly even to his own ears. The whole situation is absurd, two men falling in love is one thing... but two men of royal standing? He almost laughs at it if the feeling were not stopped by the boulder of fear lodged in his throat. "If I am to die, it will be with you."

Kamukura thinks about the proposition for a moment, weighing his options. He did not ask for his position. He did not want to be a prince; he had been raised like this. All he wanted was to do whatever he pleased as a peasant and indulge in things he wasn’t allowed to do as a prince, such as drink hard liquor or mingle with anyone he wanted to. He wanted to just leave the kingdom with a pretty man in his arms and be so unimportant that no one would notice or care. His fingertips graced Komaeda’s waist with consideration. 

“...We could.” He swallowed, looking his prince in the eyes. “I have no clue how we would do it, but we could. The only thing that worries me is that because we are without heirs, our kingdoms will most definitely collapse.”

Komaeda leans back, blinking rather owlishly. He had... almost assumed Kamukura would have completely denied his suggestion, not even entertaining the idea. His eyes darted around Kamukura's expression, searching for any hint of mockery or jest and finding none. The fingers on his hips further push his next words, a daring phrase that leaves his lips with as much force as he can muster. 

"My kingdom is cursed already. I say... damn them to hell." It sends a thrill through him and his fingers trail up to Kamukura's collarbones, tracing them with a feathery touch. "They could fall to ruin... I have no attachment there. No family. They have all fallen to my curse, I am all that is left." He laughs, "Your kingdom needs you, though, and I can tell you take pride in it." He leans forward and, gently, sweetly, brushes his lips over Kamukura's jaw. "...Even though you come from mysterious circumstances." He whispers against the skin there.

To hear a monarch curse their own kingdom with such bluntness was borderline shocking to Kamukura, but it made adrenaline pump through his veins nonetheless. He wasn’t sure if he could say such harsh things about his own—though he hated being royalty, Komaeda was right, he  _ did _ take pride in his kingdom—he found himself wanting to leave more and more every second. The life he could have with the man whose touch ghosted over his skin had to be far more interesting than being trapped within stone walls with a woman he didn’t even love for the rest of his life. The warm breath on his neck made him lift his head just slightly, focusing on the physicality of it all. That was what he was used to, of course;  _ if I am unable to gauge my internal feelings, it is best to tune in to how it feels on the outside.  _

Kamukura let out a hum, voice low. “Mysterious circumstances... so you have heard the rumors even where you are from?” His hand shifts from Komaeda’s waist to his ribcage, caressing it through his robes. “I am not surprised. I am liked by many and respected by most, but there are plenty who despise me under... interesting beliefs.”

Komaeda continues to press whisper-light kisses down Kamukura's jaw, following with the tilt of his neck. The thrill is back, returning full force and he finds himself acting recklessly. 

"Mhm..." he hums against the skin there, thinking for a moment before opening his mouth, his kisses becoming marginally fiercer. He otps to keep Nanami's name out of this, choosing instead to follow the small lie, "They say you aren't human. Which I find odd, but unsurprising. You are... ethereal." He smiles against the skin, "I am not sure why you chose to show your true self to me... but... I am so happy that you did. Perhaps you are a changeling, or a vampire, or a demon of sorts; it wouldn't matter to me. I know you have a heart, and I crave to see it on display."

Kamukura sighs as the kisses to his jaw grow more and more needy, bringing his other hand up to the ribcage that had gone untouched. His hands moved up and down against Komaeda’s sides, rubbing a bit harder and trying to feel the dips of the bone underneath through the fabric of his robes. His chest was on fire in the best kind of way. His head was tilted so his cascade of hair fell entirely behind him.

“That is indeed what they say... I do not know if those things are true, but the changeling theory is the most common.” Kamukura’s red eyes flicked to peer down at the man kissing at his neck, gaze coy. “It makes me wonder that if it is really true, are you truly mine, or are you meant to belong with the man who is supposed to be in my place...?” He sighed, and he reached up with one of his hands to caress the stretch of skin where Komaeda’s neck met his shoulders. “It is your doing that has allowed my heart to show... I do not even know the contents of my own heart half the time. It is only you who is able to draw these things out of me.”

Komaeda’s breath hitches in his throat at the touches, scraping his teeth across Kamukura's skin, "Perhaps... either way, you've captured my heart. Whether it is you or the man whose face you stole." He grins, maneuvering so his knees are straddling Kamukura and leaning back, his face flushed.

The teeth on his skin make the Dark Prince hiss, gripping the side of Komaeda’s robe tight in his fist. The legs strapped against either side of his thighs pinned him there, and Kamukura let his arms fall to his sides, looking at the other prince through foggy eyes.

"Will you kill me? Let your fangs sink into my paper flesh?" Komaeda has always had quite the morbid sense of humor, startling his father as he played dead in the garden or spoke of ghosts in the cupboards. "I supposed it is an accomplishment that I managed to woo the beast of the kingdom." He giggles.  _ Giggles _ . He's giddy again, drunk off the euphoria of being with Kamukura.

Kamukura swallowed thickly, Adam’s Apple bobbing, and tilted his head to the side as he brushed his fingers against the soft skin of Komaeda’s neck. “I would never do as much as scratch your beautiful skin, Your Highness. You are far too perfect; a statue made of marble.” He grabs the thin wrists of his lover (and the thought of calling him that made his heart sing); with a gentle yet firm tug, he pulled Komaeda’s chest into his, gracing a hand underneath his chin and ghosting his lips against the pale skin of his neck. “Yes, somehow, you have found me completely and utterly smitten with you. There are many frightening things about me, and my inability to love is considered to be the most terrifying thing about me. I am but a monster.” His lips are soft as he presses them into Komaeda’s neck, sighing as he feels his pulse beneath.  _ How warm he is. _ “And yet you’ve managed to ‘tame’ me.” Another kiss there. “It is a shame we cannot be public about our affair... people would be very impressed with you.”

The White Prince laughs, his breath catching again as he holds back a whine at the feeling of a mouth against his neck. Of  _ Kamukura's  _ mouth against his neck. 

"Impressed with me? What about  _ you? _ I—hah—" He pants, a shiver running through him, "I don't compare to you. You are so beautiful, so attractive. More powerful than a bull, but so... so gentle. You have looks, but you won me with your heart." His expression turns sly. "I've tamed you? Hm... perhaps you should show me  _ untamed _ ." His heart races with his daring words.

Kamukura had continued pressing open-mouthed kisses to the exposed neck, drinking in the noises the other was making. Upon Komaeda’s downplaying of himself, the Dark Prince placed his hand on the pale chest, careful not to hurt him as he pushed him backwards; his movements were entirely impulsive as he straddled his prince in return, fingers curling against the opening of his robe. 

“You are  _ so _ insistent that you are unattractive, but I do recall telling you multiple times that you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and I have collections of the finest artifacts taken from around this earth.” Boldly, he flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up the side of Komaeda’s jaw, kissing close to his ear once he reaches it. “I want to be incredibly selfish and hide you away so no one else can see you... if no one can convince you that you are beautiful, then please let me be the one to tell you countless times, so that you might start believing it yourself.” When Komaeda spoke his proposition, Kamukura’s breath hitched and he involuntarily tightened his straddle around him. His long ebony hair has engulfed both of them, a curtain encasing their upper bodies together. Kamukura bites his lip, breathing through his nose as he inspects the face of his Adonis. “Is that what you wish...?”

_ Selfish? _ Komaeda wants nothing more than for Kamukura to be selfish with him. He would gladly,  _ peacefully, _ live as a secret for Kamukura alone, waiting day in and day out just to catch  _ glimpses _ of him as he toured the castle. He does not feel beautiful. He feels wretched and rotting, ugly and unwanted by all. All... except Kamukura, who, against all odds,  _ cares _ for Komaeda. It is absurd to him. Mind boggling. It doesn't seem logical and yet here they are, begging each other for just a piece more. Another kiss. Another breathy exclamation of love. Another tear. Another  _ moment. _ Beautiful dark curtains surround him and it feels so much more intimate than it already was. This is just for them, for  _ only  _ them. 

Komaeda stares up at the man, his heart racing and his chest rising in quick, staggered breaths, and nods. " _ Yes. _ " He breathes. The chill of the floor beneath the carpet or the scratch of the fabric itself hardly registers with him at this point, too focused on the intensely  _ sinful _ image before him. "Please, Izuru."

Kamukura ducks down to connect their lips, kissing the other man with such passion that he didn’t know he was capable of. His heart was a hammer and he considered himself lucky that his ribs weren’t cracking under the pressure. He moved his lips against Komaeda’s, sighing into their kiss and cupping the beautiful, beautiful face in his hands. When he had to pull up for air, he didn’t lean back down, nodding as he caught his breath; he sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his robe.

“Okay... okay,” he breathed, standing up to go and lock his door. He would have never imagined that this would have happened. When he had woken up that morning, he foresaw it being a typical boring day; negotiations would be figured out and they would part ways and not see each other until the negotiations were changed.

Yet, here he was, a handsome prince smuggled into his quarters, and they had fallen deeply in love with one another at near first sight. As he locked the door, Kamukura pressed his forehead against the polished oak, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. It still seemed so surreal to him, but the feelings that stirred within him let him know that every second of this was indeed reality.

The kiss is fiery, blinding, and over far too soon. He almost protests as Kamukura stands, watching with a frown as he walks to the door. A moment later he hears the click of a lock and understands, shocked and mildly horrified that they could have been caught at any moment. He stands, brushing off his robes and attempting to calm his ragged breathing before making his way over to the intricate bed. A distant thought sweeps through his mind:  _ It is rather large for only one man. He must get lonely.  _ He crawls onto it, feeling the plush mattress beneath him and the silk sheets. 

However, there is a distinct lack of another Prince in the bed, and after too many beats of silence, he looks up from his place in the middle of the bed. He tilts his head to the side, "Izuru? Are you alright? We... we do not have to." It pains him to say, but he feels as though he must. Even after all of their doting words Komaeda still finds himself doubting that the feelings are mutual. Years of feeling unloved all come crashing down on him at once, leaving shame tinting his cheeks, "Was I... perhaps too forward?"

“—No,” Kamukura is quick to answer, turning to look at the man on his bed, “No, you were not; you said what I had been thinking. I want very much to do this with you.” The prince found himself barely able to keep himself from collapsing as he walked over to the bed, getting on and crawling across to reach Komaeda. He is trembling—he is not hesitant, he knows this for sure—but he was clearly shaking as he leant down to kiss his lips again, forearms weak with... with  _ something. _

_ Nervous. I am nervous. _

But why? Perhaps it is out of fear (another emotion, he notes) of getting caught, or out of embarrassment (yet another) of not being what Komaeda has expected of him, or out of uncertainty (and another) of not knowing if this would be the last time he would ever get to be so close to his prince. His senses were alive and so were his emotions—for the first time in his life, Kamukura felt human. He felt real and warm and awake. It felt amazing.

And he was most certain that he wanted this; he  _ very badly  _ desired it.

“Nagito, you’ll have to forgive me,” he whispered, voice shaky as he splayed his hands across the partially barren chest beneath him, “I have never done anything like this before. You are my first.”

Komaeda looks up at him, frowning for a moment before his expression softens, "I haven't either. I'm... hah, I'm terrified, Izuru." He leans back on one elbow and raises his other hand, cradling the man's jaw, "But it will be alright. We can figure it out together. I have no expectations of you, but I want to do this. If only as a way to show you how much I am yours." His thumb traces gentle circles over Kamukura's cheek, and he smiles softly again, "It's ok to be afraid. We have time, and if we do not... I will come back to you. We can wait, if you would rather. I will not love you any less for it."

Kamukura leans into the touch, closing his eyes and focusing on the gentle pad of Komaeda’s thumb. The tender assurance made the man’s heart melt and he kissed the prince again, letting his lips linger a moment before pulling back. He sat back on his heels, glancing out at the balcony; the curtains were wide open, but the courtyard was the only thing that could see them—not a soul lingered outside. 

“I promise that I am ready. I want to give myself to you as a symbol of my eternal love. There is no one else I would rather have...” Kamukura smiled in reverence, face tinted red in sheepishness and nerves. “My stomach... is doing flips. But I assure you, it is a good thing.”

Komaeda laughs at that, "Mine is too. It is a good type of nervous. A bit like before a big presentation for the counsel or something similar. But... better, obviously." His laugh sounds a bit nervous this time, "I am... not even sure...  _ how _ to do this, actually. I, er... I..." His face erupts in red and he drops a hand down to hide it, "T-Two men... I... suppose we should just... try? Oh goodness." He laughs and shakes his head, "Please just kiss me; one of these days I am sure I will sew my mouth shut permanently."

This made Kamukura laugh too, endeared by the saccharine thoughts that the other prince fretted over out loud. “I do not know, either,” Kamukura explained, moving in closer, “I have read books but they have obviously only ever discussed men and women... we will figure it out together.” 

He is smooth in leaning in and holding Komaeda’s face, opening his mouth to kiss him like he had in the meeting room. The sound of their mouths moving together is wet and foreign, but he welcomes the unfamiliarity, letting his body rest against the other’s.

The kiss is just as fervent and sloppy as earlier that day, their tongues meeting and hands roaming. Komaeda melts into it, lying back against the soft bedding and savoring the taste of the other. Hair everywhere, blocking out the light save for a few spaces in between. He reaches up, tangling his fingers in it, digging into the soft strands with heated caresses. It's such an odd feeling, to be touched like this. Like something special. He assumed he would never experience it. The most he would see in his lifetime would be the uncaring, terrified touch of a woman he could not love. This...  _ this _ is so much better. Internally he rolls his eyes at the drastic understatement that that is. It is  _ infinitely _ better. He would travel to the end of the world just for another taste of this divine mouth.

Kamukura hums into Komaeda’s mouth as his hands are wedged against his scalp. The Dark Prince continues to work his mouth into the other’s, using his tongue to explore whatever he could reach. His legs were back overtop Komaeda’s hips, straddling him tightly as his hands roamed against the robed waist beneath him. His touch is slightly hungry yet still remains gentle, the fabric moving beneath his palms. He breaks their kiss for a moment, pressing their cheeks together.

“I know,” he is panting for breath, “that you know this already, but no one is allowed to touch someone of royalty. I have never had any sort of physical contact with anyone since my childhood.” Kamukura squeezed his thighs against Komaeda’s hips, sitting back while effectively keeping the other man beneath him. “For that reason, and possibly my own selfishness as well...” He tipped his head back, hair falling behind him and fully revealing the already-loosening robe that hugged his frame. “I wish for you to be the one to undress me. I want you to touch as much of me as you can tonight.”

Komaeda knows exactly what Kamukura means by that. He knows the pain of wanting touch, longing for affection and yet never receiving it. Hugs that are not with immediate family are discouraged, and even then it is frowned upon. His mother was the one exception, always offering kindness and affectionate pats to Komaeda's head. Taking his hand in excitement or hugging him before leaving for the day. Of course, he is much more lenient with his staff than Kamukura's castle seems to be, but there is still a large disconnect. 

He nods. "Of course. On the condition that you do the same." He almost laughs at the absurdity of the situation, finding it ironic that, despite it all, they have managed to come back to negotiations however much more pleasant these may be. "I want to discover everything about you. Every centimeter of skin." He raises a hand up, carefully dipping his fingers under the robes and brushing the skin of his chest. He sits up more, his breath leaving in a huff of amazement, "You are so beautiful, my love." He breathes as he slowly begins to peel off the garments, leaning forward to kiss the skin of Kamukura's collarbone as he does.

A smile graces the Dark Prince’s lips as gentle hands work at his robe and kisses were left behind on his collarbone. He sighed in pleasure; Kamukura splayed his hands out behind him atop the silk sheets to keep himself steady. This was all so new yet it was so electrifying.

“To be called beautiful by such an angel... it is of the highest honor.” The hands that are tucked inside of his robes make him shiver, yet it is not an unwelcome feeling. “It is still mind-boggling to me that such a pretty man would find me attractive... I already know that the rest of you is beautiful as well.” He sighs again, full of bliss.

The words of encouragement only make Komaeda more enthusiastic and he runs his hands up and over Kamukura's shoulders, pushing his robes back with the motion. "I could say the same to you," He whispers, kissing up the man's neck. Generally, he finds himself very lucky if he tries at things he doesn't know how to do. So he trusts his gut with this, slowly working the fabric off until it falls off Kamukura entirely. 

The moment he is touched just a little more intimately, hands sliding over his shoulders, Kamukura’s brow furrows and he bites at his lower lip. It is somewhat cold without his robes on, but his skin is blazing hot and every touch of Komaeda’s lips is a spark of electricity; a match being struck against his skin. He can’t help but lay back, allowing the prince to move on top of him and kiss at his chest. 

"Wow..." Komaeda sits back for only a moment to marvel at the near perfect physique of the other before diving back into his ministrations, leaving kisses everywhere he can reach. It's messy business, but he finds it  _ intoxicating. _ Experimentally, he scrapes his teeth across Kamukura's collarbone before biting down gently on the skin there. The thought won't leave his mind that perhaps one day, someone else will do this with Kamukura. It sends bitterness coursing through him and he bites a bit harder, sucking the skin between his teeth. It's rough, and something so unlike him to do, but the selfishness overtakes him in that moment. Of course, the mark won't last forever physically, but... it will to them, at least he hopes.

“Ah, Nagito, you’re...” he trails off, swallowing as he feels the man moving his kisses across his pecs, firm and toned. A hand moves to press against Komaeda’s back, and when his teeth pinch his skin, he involuntarily jolts and curls his fingertips into the robe a bit for leverage. If Komaeda hadn’t been clothed, he would have likely scratched him (despite Kamukura’s promise not to earlier).

“Nagito, my love, this feels amazing—“ He lets out a hiss at his second bite, body tensing momentarily. The hotness of Komaeda’s tongue on the fresh nip soothed the burn. Kamukura tipped his head sideways, breathing growing shallow; he reached behind his lover to pull greedily at the back of his robe as Komaeda continued to give his flushed body kisses.

The White Prince quickly pulls his arms out of it, returning to his sloppy kisses almost immediately. He travels down further, nipping at skin wherever he can before eyeing Kamukura's pecs. He grins slyly and flattens his tongue, swiping it over one of his nipples. At this point, it is almost a game for Komaeda, trying to figure out what works and what doesn't. He's only in his undergarments now, straddling Kamukura who is in a similar, if not more flustered, state. 

"Good... please keep telling me. I want to make you feel good." He says, his voice soft as his hands trace over Kamukura's abdomen.

Komaeda’s experimenting has Kamukura panting, surprising himself that he was so reactive to such little touches. He reaches out to hold one of the pale prince’s hips, squeezing and caressing the creamy skin there. The tongue on his nipples actually makes him  _ squeak _ and he quietly laughs after it happens, ruby eyes staring up into gray ones.

“You are doing so little, yet so much...” Kamukura shifts his hand on Komaeda’s hip to his back, rubbing there and realizing just how skinny the other was; he could feel the knobs of his spine beneath his palm. “How can I help you feel like this, too...?”

Komaeda smiles against the skin in front of him and he raises back up. His skin is already alight at every touch. He feels as though the hot sun has taken residency in his stomach. Despite his boldness thus far, he hesitates for a moment, feeling a twinge of sudden, inexplicable uncertainty. He knows he is hard, he can feel it and see it tenting his undergarments... but... 

He dares a look down at Kamukura and immediately relaxes when he sees him in a similar state. The cruel whispers of a one-sided affection subside within his mind and, as is his tendency, he chooses to be  _ bold. _

He presses a kiss to the corner of Kamukura's mouth before taking the other man's hand in his and guiding it to his chest... then further down to his stomach. He stops just above the line of the fabric there and places the hand, breathing shakily. He steels himself before finally leaning back and pulling down the last bit of clothing, tossing it aside. His face heats up in... embarrassment? Shame? Excitement? 

"Touch me." Komaeda says, voice only shaking slightly. He feels the sudden need to speak more, and his nerves overtake his mouth. "I apologize for my physique. I am aware I am very... unattractive like this. If you wish to close your eyes, I would understand. I am quite disgusting... too crude and skeletal. Hah..." Despite his words, he places a hand over the one on his stomach and slowly drags it down.

Kamukura’s eyes soften at the edges as his hand is tracked all across the soft skin of Komaeda’s torso and belly, heart stopping as the other man shifts a bit so he can pull his undergarments off. His breath is shallow in wonder as he takes it all in, hand still pressed to his companion’s stomach. Komaeda is hard, his length half-resting against Kamukura’s own pelvis, and the Dark Prince finds himself completely  _ breathless. _ He is straining his undergarments himself, the tightness only growing worse upon the sight of the other prince completely nude above him. He has never seen anyone other than himself—not even a woman—and he can tell immediately that he and Komaeda are different; the paler member was slightly skinnier than his, but he likely had him beat on length. It was fascinating to see him up close and Kamukura felt his curiosities getting the better of him.

“You... You’re gorgeous, Nagito,” his voice is hushed as he inspects the man closely, feeling traces of thin hair against his palm as it is moved for him, “I will tell you as many times I need to. You are not skeletal; you are fragile. You are built the way you are to represent your kind soul and precious spirit. I am a bit filled out and toned to match my brooding, dark personality. I love you; you are perfect as you are, and I would not want you any other way.”

Komaeda’s hands are gentle as they guide him down in between his legs, and Kamukura instinctively curls his fingers around him, sucking in a breath and feeling himself twitch in his undergarments when the thin prince quietly keens. The skin in his hand is warm and soft like velvet, and Kamukura keeps his grip loose as he slowly begins to rub. His own breath is audible as his mouth hangs open in focus, skin flushed in adoration as he listens to the soft noises Komaeda makes.

Komaeda gasps as Kamukura moves, trying to keep his mouth  _ shut _ and failing horribly with every small touch against him. In a valiant attempt to silence himself, he leans back over and kisses Kamukura, only to moan into the kiss.  _ Loudly _ . He's thankful that the guards are gone because he's afraid that if anyone were outside they certainly would have heard. 

When his prince kisses him, Kamukura smiles against his lips upon feeling the vibration of his moans into his mouth. He twists his wrist against him, thumb pressed atop the swollen head, trying to assist Komaeda in the same way he would have done himself. He had only done this a handful of times and it was usually out of pure boredom; it felt so important now. Every movement was calculated as he felt the thin skin move underneath his hand, twitching in his palm.

Komaeda shivers and allows one hand to roam across Kamukura's body, down, down, down... until his fingers dip below the fabric there. He leans back for a moment, shivering. 

"You, hah... you're so perfect." His normal prim speech is shortened, something he hasn't done since childhood, "So, so beautiful. You are the night and your eyes are the fires lighting my way." He pushes the fabric down and tilts his head in a silent question.

Komaeda’s kind words and hands so close to his groin draw a long sigh out of Kamukura, tilting his head back against the sheets. “ _ Ohhhhhh _ , my angel...” His spare hand moves up to grip the thin waist above him and he lifts his hips invitingly, quietly urging him to continue. “Please. Please...”

Komaeda pushes his hand all the way under the garments, pushing the fabric down with it until it is low on Kamukura's hips, and wraps slender fingers around him. He had never been very...  _ interested _ in this, to say the least. Especially not with women. The thought was abhorrent, if he is being honest, and try as he might he has never been able to picture sex in a good light. It seemed like, when it was to occur, it would be a chore of duty. He had never been aroused by the maidens of the castle, nor any of the nearby princesses who he was to wed. Rather... he found himself hiding a rather embarrassing erection as he watched the stable boys work, having to hide away in the restroom until it passed. 

Now, with his hands around Kamukura and the man squirming and  _ begging _ beneath him, he doesn't take a single moment of it for granted. He soaks up every sound, every movement, every smell and salty taste still lingering on his tongue. Kamukura is  _ big _ ; this is something that makes Komaeda's heart skip a beat in excitement. He strokes it a few times, smiling before kissing Kamukura's chest. Then his stomach... down to his navel... and his hips. As he makes his slow crawl down the other, he pushes the fabric of Kamukura's undergarments further out of the way until it slips off entirely and he flings them aside carelessly. 

The noises that escape his throat catch Kamukura entirely off guard; the air is cold against his skin as Komaeda removes him from his undergarments, but he was sweating so much from arousal and excitement that he immediately warmed back up. His companion’s lips are like butterflies as he makes his descent down his body, leaving a trail of hotspots where Kamukura’s skin tingles in delight. He spread his legs out a bit wider to allow Komaeda more space, propping himself up on one elbow so he could reach down and card a hand through his snowy hair. It is damp with sweat but the Dark Prince doesn’t mind at all, eyes alight with pure, undying love.

Taking in the sight of Kamukura's length in front of him, only a few inches from his face, he breathes. His chest aches with the speed of his heart and, with only a moment of hesitation more, he plants a kiss on Kamukura's hip. And another, and another, until he finds himself at the base of his dick. Of course, doing this means Kamukura had to release him, but it is so, so worth it when he glances up under his lashes to see the flustered face above him.

Kamukura’s hips twitch beneath each and every kiss Komaeda places there, little hiccups slipping through his lips until the beautiful mouth finds its way to his base. The feather light touch coaxes a groan out of the man, bringing the hand that had been tangled in Komaeda’s hair up to his mouth, biting at the knuckle of his index. 

“H-Hah—I wish you could see yourself right now; you look like a god,” he chuckled a bit, the muscles in his stomach tightening as he twitched when Komaeda kept kissing; his gray eyes stayed trained on Kamukura’s the entire time. The Dark Prince was insistent on not breaking eye contact either, stray strands of black hair sticking to his face from sweat as he panted. He looked incredibly disheveled; he spent way too much time preening and grooming himself for him to ever appear anything less than finely dressed whenever he saw other people. He was a bit vain and cared way too much about how other people saw him.

But with Komaeda’s gorgeous face between his legs, swollen lips pressed against his dick and just as far gone as he was, he suddenly didn’t mind if this man saw him this way. His hips bucked up a bit in want, body beginning to take involuntary action as he grew even harder in the other man’s grasp.

Finally, after mouthing at the base of Kamukura's dick for what felt like an eternity, he flattens out his tongue and trails it up, licking the underside. It tastes heady and a bit salty, and it is  _ intoxicating. _ He looks up at Kamukura once more, and the Prince's expression alone immediately sends shockwaves to his own member. He watches, eyes locked onto the other, as he places his hands on the insides of Kamukura's thighs and slowly lowers his mouth down to the tip, licking once before surrounding it with his lips. He dips a bit further before swirling his tongue experimentally.

Kamukura let out a groan, gripping the sheets beneath him and throwing his head back. The wet heat engulfing him felt so  _ amazing _ —he hissed through clenched teeth, looking back down and resting his other elbow against the mattress to prop himself up. Even in such a compromising position, Komaeda was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

His ruby eyes were a bit unfocused as he admired the Prince from the strange angle, unable to stop quiet hums from escaping his lips. “T-This... This is so filthy,” he said, grinning and biting his lip; his hips bucked up into the warm mouth a bit, searching for stimulation, “I love it... it feels so good, Nagito, you’re amazing...” 

Komaeda hums, bobbing his mouth further down before pulling off with a  _ pop _ . "You taste so good," is all he can think to say, laughing lightly through labored breaths.

Kamukura’s head fell back again and he laughed, deep and full. “Such important men doing such naughty things... our kingdoms wouldn’t know what to do with themselves if they knew what their monarchs were up to...” He could feel heat beginning to pool in the bottom of his belly; his heart fluttered.

The White Prince licks another stripe up and huffs, "Your subjects especially. The stoic prince, panting and begging for someone? They would believe it to be a hallucination." He eyes Kamukura before grinning, a predatory look in his eyes, "How wonderful then, that I will be the only one to ever see it." He slides his mouth back down, pressing as far as he can while gripping Kamukura's thighs tightly.

This is absolute torture and pure bliss at the exact same time; Kamukura keens, moaning gutturally and feeling himself tremble in pleasure. The hands grabbing at his thighs are tight enough to make his muscles sore and he _ loves _ it, because that means a reminder of Komaeda will be left behind even days after he has left alongside the bite on his collarbone.

The pale prince’s bold words go straight to Kamukura’s groin, his breath low in his abdomen as he thrusts up into the warm mouth, relishing in the feeling of his companion’s throat tightening around him. Kamukura bites his lip, adjusting the way he is laying so he is propped up even further; he grabs a handful of the ivory hair and tugs, keeping a good grip on the back of Komaeda’s head as he bobs on his dick.

“Only you can do this to me,” he speaks gruffly, voice lusty, “you have made me into a begging, pitiful mess.” He thrusts up into his mouth again, breath hitching when the hands planted on his thighs squeeze him even harder. “You obviously care for your subjects as well; I wonder how they would react if you told them you wound up having sex with another prince for resources?” He runs a hand through his own hair, pulling it out of his face. “Of course that’s not what this is, but it would be fun to lie, hmm?” He closes his eyes and allows himself to focus more on how Komaeda was working him with his mouth, hips moving gently with each downstroke. “You... can’t talk like this; I’ll stop now.” His ears burned red in slight embarrassment for not considering such a detail.

Despite his best efforts, Komaeda has to pull off to laugh, the feeling bubbling up inside him. And how odd that is, to be in such a sinful, intense situation and still find joy and lightheartedness. That is love, he supposes. Pure love. He tilts his forehead on Kamukura's thigh, allowing himself to laugh before he continues. 

"No... no, I like it. It is good to know I am... doing well. I like your voice." He looks up, grinning, "My wonderful prince hath lost control o' his royal tongue! My god in heaven! What shall we do?" He leans back, fully letting go of the thighs that he had been keeping in place, "Perhaps a punishment? No... no, that is certainly more suited for the White Prince of the North. For he seeks safety through sin..." He breathes, and dips back down. Rather than steadying Kamukura's hips, he moves his hands to encourage them to thrust into his mouth. He attempts to fully hollow out his throat, his jaw already aching, and dips lower... and lower.... lower...

It is wonderful to laugh and mess around while in such vulnerable states. Kamukura finds himself falling deeper and deeper in love with the man every second. His smile is bright even buried into his thigh and they are both high on serotonin and it is amazing. His laughs fade into low hums as Komaeda begins to work him again, swollen lips wet and sloppy yet so careful with their movements, and the freedom to move isn’t taken for granted. Toned legs wrap around the pale back and he presses his heels into his shoulder blades, using the leverage to buck up with steadier aim. He can feel himself pushing against the back of Komaeda’s soft throat and he gets a bit lost in the moment, quickening his pace yet being as gentle as he could while chasing the orgasm he felt building up in his pelvis. Komaeda is so, _ so _ good for him, letting him hold the back of his head and push him down where he needed to, lips nearly at the base (which was impressive, because Kamukura knew he was a bit gifted in his size); after a moment though, Kamukura let out a strangled gasp and pulled back on his lover’s hair, his dick flopping onto his stomach with a quiet slap as Komaeda let it go. He forced himself to lay still as he felt the urge leave him, thighs twitching as he gently eased up on the grip he had in the white hair.

The grip on his hair sends such a  _ beautiful _ pain through Komaeda’s scalp, the sharp sting of it making his toes curl. As soon as Kamukura pulls out of his mouth he gasps, both for air and from the sensation of it. After a moment he recovers and watches in fascination as Kamukura tenses.

"That felt... s-so good. Please, please, do that again." He says, voice cracking a bit at the edges. He can feel the heat from his face, the desperation in his voice as he begs. "Do whatever you wish to me. I won't break, I promise.  _ Please. _ "

Kamukura’s face is red and his palm rests atop his belly as he catches his breath, looking up at his Prince. The shameless begging was enough to get him going again, and he sat up, moving towards Komaeda and getting up against him so he could force him to move backwards; he crawled low and close to his lover’s body as he backed him up until Komaeda’s head could rest on his pillows. The Dark Prince ducked down, pressing his lips to the sharp jawline and pushing his hips up against the other’s.

“Listen to you beg,” he smirked against his skin, snaking a hand up to wind into thick curly hair, “so needy, so sinful...”

For a moment, his thoughts trailed to the guards at the end of the hallway, guarding his quarters with their lives. They had no idea they had just allowed a tryst to occur right under their noses.

A strong hand began to pull at Komaeda’s hair, other hand at rest just below the pale prince’s bellybutton. Kamukura continued to rock their hips together, lost to the feeling of their dicks pressing.

“What you said—about seeking safety through sin...” Kamukura’s lips were at the pure neck of his lover, and he licked at a spot before sucking on it gently. “What did you mean by that...? I’m intrigued.” Carefully, he nipped at the thin skin, desperate to leave a mark on the prince that showed he was his.

The pain is  _ wonderful. _ Komaeda tilts his head, allowing Kamukura access to his neck. The press of their hips is  _ infuriatingly _ addictive and he is quickly finding it difficult to stay silent. Small gasps leave him with every movement, his legs spreading further until, eventually, he wraps them firmly around Kamukura's waist. 

"Ah... wh-what did... I mean?" He says in between noises. The mouth on his neck is a  _ bit _ distracting. Just a bit. "Two different things, I suppose." He ruts his hips up, his heels digging into Kamukura's lower back, "One being that, I came here for business. Were people to suspect that I did this for trade, it would b-be... be...  _ a-ah.. _ . sin in exchange for safety. In another sense." He reaches up, tangling his fingers in the dark, silken hair. "Being with you is perhaps the safest I have ever felt. A hundred guards mean nothing compared to you. I would damn myself for eternity just for another taste of your lips." This time, a  _ whine _ leaves him, muffled by him biting his lip, but there nonetheless. He is certainly giving off an embarrassing display. Noisy. Needy. He feels like a bit of a whore but it feels far too good for him to stop.

Kamukura curses himself for closing his eyes so often, but he can’t help himself—it’s intoxicating laying here like this, pressed so close to the handsome man that made such delicious, beautiful noises beneath him. His exhales come out in soft moans as he listens to Komaeda’s words; his hips angle upwards so he can press harder and give them both more stimulation. He is so thankful for this room and for Komaeda and for this moment. The heels in his back bring a dull ache but he doesn’t even care; all of this makes him feel so alive and human that he would seek after anything he could get. Truthfully, a lot of the validation wasn’t coming from his own pleasures, but rather knowing he was making the man below him feel just as good. His lips move back up to Komaeda’s mouth and he kisses him, tasting himself on the other man’s tongue—it was so incredibly  _ hot _ and he felt his abdomen tense in heightened arousal.

“I would do the same,” Kamukura confessed, tangling both hands in the white hair and pulling at the root. He shows no hesitation as he tongues the inside of his lover’s mouth. His face is flushed in exasperation and he is positive sweat is rolling down his pecs, face, and back, and he  _ loves _ it. He loves feeling debauched and dirty and uncouth. An entire lifetime of being forcefully prim and proper could take its toll quickly. Kamukura never wanted to dress in his regal attire again. He wanted to be a peasant, free to do what he wished—he wanted to kiss and make love to this man again and again and again and live freely.

“I would hang for you. My life is much less important than yours, my White Prince, and I would die on any guillotine or tree for you.” He is nearly panting into Komaeda’s mouth as he continues to kiss him, thrusting his hips even harder to the point where his bedframe creaks beneath them. “I promise I will keep you safe. You have made me feel like I have never felt before. I will give you anything you need—anything you want—I will always support you.” Their lips touch again and he swallows Komaeda’s moans in his mouth; they sound so raunchy and needy and he thickens against the pale member. He is likely at full mast now, solely because of Komaeda.

“You sound so beautiful...” Kamukura moans, tugging on the hair, “so needy and ready, just for me to see...” He dips his tongue inside of Komaeda’s mouth once more, entangling them. “S-So— _ ah _ ... so sensual...”

Komaeda  _ keens, _ squirming at the attention. Heat pools in his stomach, tightening, and he all but sobs as his gasps turn desperate. Muffled by the kiss as they are, the sheer noise of the entire situation sends thrills coursing through him. 

"You mustn't... you mustn't..." He pleads as they pull apart for a moment, "for if you die I would not live without you." It is true. The thought of returning to his kingdom, to the empty stone walls so devoid of joy... of love, makes him ache. He has not a single friend there. No family to return to. It is an empty life that will turn him into a shell of himself, withering away with a loveless marriage and cold walls that surround him. He presses into the kiss fervently, putting all of his emotion into it to the point where it is nearly bruising. They are a mess of sweat and saliva and he can't find it in himself to care for even a moment,  _ especially _ when Kamukura's fingers find his scalp and  _ pull _ like that. He knows he is close; he can feel the heat curl low in his hips and the way his breathing is beginning to stutter. 

"Please, please, please," he pants, "Izuru... oh  _ God _ , I love you. Run away with me. I cannot return to my life without you.  _ Please _ . Oh, fuck me, pleaseplease _ please _ ..." In his life, Komaeda has taken pride in his speech, known at home for being a model prince simply for his education and quick tongue. Now, he loses his sense of propriety entirely, his words turning into a slew of mumbles and broken moans, his mouth falling open dazedly.

Kamukura sighs a moan of both pleasure and love as he nods feverishly at the proposal, hands sliding to the skinny waist.

“I will, Nagito; Nagito, I  _ promise _ I will,” his breath is short as tears slip down his face again, the prince’s lips warm against his, “We’ll figure it out, my love, I love you, with all of my heart; you’ve stolen it and made me yours in a day; I do not want to live any longer without you, as I’ve waited long enough...”

Hearing such a pure, innocent man say such words makes Kamukura groan, moving his hands to the plush underside of Komaeda’s ass, squeezing tightly.

“ _ Fuck _ , that’s so hot—“ he is beginning to lose his sense of self as well, dizzied with lust and desire, “fuck, listen to you... such a whore.” He is only teasing of course, as he wants it just as badly, and he plants a final kiss to Komaeda’s lips before pressing one to his jawline, then his neck, then his collarbone... he leaves sultry pecks on both pert nipples, tweaking them with his thumbs before leaving them be. He dips his tongue into Komaeda’s bellybutton before dragging his lips down to where the indents of his hipbones were, kissing and sucking. He drinks in the nonsense that spills from pretty red lips, kissing the head of the dick that stands waiting. 

“Only a moment longer, my love,” Kamukura assures him, and he sticks out his tongue, pressing his length to the pad and taking him in his mouth.

The insults only make Komaeda’s noises more frantic, the word  _ whore _ ringing out in his mind. A filthy word said with such  _ love _ . His chest feels electrified, sparks shooting directly to his dick, traveling down to his toes and making them curl. It only gets worse—better?—when the trail of kisses brings heat to his dick, Kamukura's mouth surrounding him. It's nearly unbearable, the pressure in his gut threatening to spill over. He smiles in bewilderment before his face falls slack again, his eyelids fluttering. 

He knows it is absurd, but... he trusts every word Kamukura says. He knows they will work it out. They have to. He can live a life in secret if he must, as unfair as that may be, but... if they ran away. If they got a house somewhere, perhaps a farm... a cabin by the sea where he could watch Kamukura's hair blow in the breeze... the thought fills him with longing so deep it aches. The pleasure of their actions clashing with the yearning in his soul for this to last just a little bit longer. 

"I love you–" is all he manages to say before he is cut off by a moan. "I-Izuru I... you..." he blushes and pants, "I think I'm... I am going to..." How odd that he finds it embarrassing to say, even after all of their actions in the last few moments. Proper even in the face of ejaculation. He almost laughs were he not so focused on  _ not _ cumming down Kamukura's throat.

Kamukura’s mouth is busy as he is trying to learn how to give fellatio  _ as _ he is doing it. Komaeda is heavy on his tongue and he can taste the saltiness of his precum on his soft palate; he moans around the dick in his mouth, still keeping a handful of Komaeda’s bottom. He is pillowy in his ass and his thighs—which surprised Kamukura, given the man was incredibly skinny elsewhere—but it was delicious, and his hands fondled and squeezed whatever they could grab. His tongue swirls and licks and he drags his teeth up the shaft, heart light when Komaeda’s toes curl behind him in reaction. 

Upon his warning though he lifts off of the flushed dick with a pop, a trail of saliva connecting Komaeda’s head and his lips. He wipes his mouth, sitting back onto his heels and watching with half-lidded eyes as his Prince moans and pants, the silken sheets beneath them already soaked with sweat.

“Forgive me for doing that to you...” Kamukura says gruffly, making a show of splaying his palm out and pressing it against his pecs, smoothing it down to his abdomen and then his pelvis, tan fingers wrapping around his dick as he begins pumping himself, “but I figured you would much rather peak with me inside you.”

Kamukura's words make his eyes widen comically, all of his thoughts short circuiting suddenly. Komaeda takes some deep breaths, calming down and easing away from the overwhelming feelings in his dick. He nods, "Yes. Yes, yes please. Oh,  _ please, Izuru _ . I would love nothing more.  _ Please _ ." He pleads, gasping as his skin  _ burns _ with the want of it. In fact, he doesn't think he's ever wanted anything more in his entire life. 

Shame completely forgotten, he spreads his legs, twisting one of his hands in the pillow under his head while the other tangles in his hair. He watches Kamukura's  _ sinful _ display, breathing deeply to keep his thoughts as clean as he can in that moment. It doesn't work very well and a groan slips out of him, his hips lifting involuntarily.

Kamukura lets out a gentle laugh, albeit a bit strained by the lust creeping into his voice. The noise of him pumping himself is wet and slick from Komaeda’s saliva but he takes this as a good sign; he doesn’t want to hurt the fragile man.

“You’re so eager. I love you, Nagito Komaeda, White Prince of the North.” He moves forward a bit, fingertips gracing over the back of a creamy thigh, pushing it further outwards to provide himself easier access. Kamukura glances down and ensures that he is fully prepared—he is heavy in his hand, slick dripping from his head—and positions himself at Komaeda’s entrance. He nearly drools when the white-haired man spreads himself even wider, putting his most sinful parts on display for Kamukura. His pale skin is flushed deep red as he concentrates on what the Dark Prince boasted between his legs; the attention makes Kamukura admittedly a bit prideful.

The feeling is...  _ odd _ . Komaeda won't lie to himself and say he has never attempted something like this on his own. He has always been curious, and after some prodding he did find it nice. However,  _ nice _ is far too tame for this circumstance. This, the most beautiful man on Earth slowly pressing into him as he whispers words dripping with affection, is downright  _ heavenly _ . He is shaking, whining deep in his throat for  _ something _ , a craving he needs filled.

“Please stop me at any point if I hurt you,” Kamukura’s deep voice requests, rubbing his tip against the tight pucker for a moment before starting to push himself in—he lets out a hiss of pleasure the second he breaks the surface and his voice strains. “I would imagine this could hurt very badly; take it good for me, okay? I want you to feel good...”

"Okay." Komaeda pants, his chest rising and falling rapidly at the slight burn. It hurts, but it is more of a dull ache, one that feels so  _ good _ and filled and perfect. "A- _ Ah. _ .." He whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut. His mouth falls open with it, his moans ceasing for a moment as he adjusts and breathes. "Keep going, please. God, it feels so good." A shiver of excitement runs through his body. Never before has he felt so utterly, undeniably alive. On fire, as if he is being boiled alive over an open flame. All of the cold, uncaring years that brought him here, all of the heartache and misfortune... it is all so  _ worth it _ for this. 

"Izuru..." he whispers the name like a prayer, "Oh, how I love you. If I die it will be by your side. I wish to marry you.  _ P-Please, oh God.. _ . hah... you are so wonderful. My comfort and my warmth. Oh, my Prince."

Kamukura’s face flushes at Komaeda’s words and he dips down, placing a kiss on the pale belly. Even like this—even as he is sodomizing the man—the Prince is declaring his love and affections and Kamukura wants nothing more than to bury himself in him. Not the way he was now, no; he wanted to bury his face in his neck and wrap his arms around the thin torso, breathing in the sweet scent of  _ him _ and whispering all of the things that the Dark Prince had on his mind. No woman could ever make him feel like this. 

He is sheathed almost entirely with an inch or so to spare as to not overwhelm Komaeda and begins to rock his hips into him, slowly finding his pace. Out of sheer curiosity, he looks down and watches as he pulls back and pushes himself back in, Komaeda taking him like he was made for this. Kamukura groaned; it was hot and tight, and every so often the walls  _ squeezed _ around him and swallowed him deeper. His stomach did flips, and he was a bit embarrassed that he was already so excited that he felt stars in his lower abdomen, beginning to build up.

“Nagito, my love, you’re doing so great; so good for me...” Kamukura’s thrusts pick up just a bit, still fairly slow and gentle and loving. He ducks down, able to reach the creamy chest even as he rocks into him, and places sweet kisses on Komaeda’s pecs. “You have been my first kiss, my first love, my first time; I want you to be my last as well. My heart beats only for you now. I will cherish you until my dying day and treat you like royalty even if we are living in poverty together.” He lets out a whimper of pleasure when Komaeda gives a particularly good squeeze, his heels digging into his lower back and aching in the best kind of way. “You are an angel that has come and blessed me with your presence and I will always love you. Please,  _ please _ , Nagito, my heart is yours; be my betrothed, as I do not wish to be with anybody else...”

Lost in the feelings, lost in the sweet words said purely for him, lost in the  _ moment _ , Komaeda moans. In his life, he has never felt loved. Rather, he has felt very outcast, even from an early age. He hardly played with the other children due to both his status and his health problems, always opting to play with the animals in the courtyards. Special treatment is something he is used to because of his princely status, but never before has it been so willingly given. It is a dangerously addictive feeling, and one that he is terrified to get attached to, knowing that it may be one of the few (if only) times he'll be able to experience it. It is bittersweet, and despite his optimistic attitude, he feels a burning behind his eyes. To hide this, he throws an arm over his eyes, blocking out any sights he may see and focusing on the feeling. 

"A hunting trip." He gasps, his hips pressing up, "We may go on a hunting trip together... t-to... to show... ah... peaceful relations b-between our kingd— _ AH! _ "His thoughts stutter when a full body shiver runs through him. Inside of him, Kamukura is angled  _ just _ right, and he bites down on his arm hard to muffle a cry of pleasure.

Kamukura startles at the loud yell, but the realization of what had happened quickly washes over him. He adjusts himself so he can keep thrusting directly into Komaeda’s sweet spot; the way that the man is mewling underneath him is bringing him dangerously close to cumming. His long hair is sticking to his back, his chest, his thighs, but he doesn’t care, winding his left arm beneath Komaeda’s back to be able to hold him. With his free hand he gropes his way down to the weeping dick, gripping him in his fist and twisting his wrist in time with his movements. 

The Dark Prince moans in pleasure as his thrusts become more sporadic and uneven, fucking Komaeda so deep that his hips were smacking up against his ass each time he bucked up into him. Kamukura pressed his face up against the pale forearm that his Prince held to his face, kissing it lovingly and letting his lips linger there.

“ _ Ahh—ah _ —of course; a h-hunting—gg—trip... you’re s-so... ah... so smart...” His ruby eyes are glassy and he is nearly drooling from the stimulation, peering underneath the forearm to see his lover’s beautiful face. The way Komaeda is responding to everything is absolutely  _ gorgeous _ and the contorted look of pure bliss that he wore was almost enough in itself to make Kamukura break.

But still he didn’t, wrist still pumping and hips still thrusting, relishing in all of the obscene noises their bodies were making together; their uncontrolled moans, skin against skin, the wet noise Kamukura’s hand made on the member slick with his saliva. He sucked in a shaking breath through his nose, moans starting to stutter as the coil in his lower belly threatened to snap. He lifted his head a bit, trying to lock his eyes with pale gray ones. “N-Nagito,  _ ahhhh _ —I’m—I’m close...”

Komaeda finally reveals his face, his arm dropping and gripping the sheets. It only takes a few more moments before he is unraveling, his breath stuttering sharply and his back arching as he cums. It feels heavenly, the stimulation absolutely incredible. His mouth tastes salty, he smells like sweat and arousal, Kamukura's moans fill his ears... it's all so much. The hand around him doesn't stop, pumping him through his orgasm. He shivers again as the last few waves hit him, gasping.

Kamukura follows very closely after him, and he’s not entirely sure what made him cum—the walls clenching tightly around his dick, the way the body beneath him tensed and arched and shook, the choked back moans that came out in sharp breaths as to not reveal their tryst to the guards, the white ropes glistening on the ivory skin and Kamukura’s tan hand. He gives a sharp final thrust as he buries himself in as far as he can go, cumming deep with a low groan. His face is pressed against the side of Komaeda’s head and he’s moaning as his hips and thighs tremble as he tries to keep himself from collapsing as he finishes. The heat in his cheeks has spread across his face and he is positive his entire upper body is beet red as he pants and gives a few more half-hearted rocks of his hips before stilling entirely, coming to rest atop his beautiful prince.

The two lay in silence for a few moments, catching their breath and taking in everything that had just happened. Kamukura’s room smells heavily of sex and he notes that he will have to open the balcony door for a bit before they even  _ think _ about opening the main door again. His sheets are soaked beneath them but he doesn’t even care, breath starting to finally catch up as he rubs Komaeda’s chest lovingly, chuckling tiredly in his ear. “Oh my God,” is all he can think to say—or  _ feel _ —at the moment.

Komaeda huffs, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he relaxes once more. Kamukura's soft touches help, his vision still dizzy and tinted with stars at the edges. "Hah..." he laughs, voice airy, "Yes. That... is a very good response." He finally regains his mind, motor functions finally catching up to his thoughts and he clings to Kamukura, tangling their legs together despite the mess between them. 

He frowns lightly, pressing his face into Kamukura's neck. "Hmm... we will clean in a moment... you're warm..." One of the largest thoughts in his mind at the moment is  _ safety _ . He is safe here, wrapped in Kamukura. Wrapped in love and warmth and soft sheets and sweet touches. "I love you, Izuru."

Kamukura hums in content, kissing Komaeda’s cheek gently. “I love you too, Nagito... with all of my heart.” He nods, adjusting himself a bit so the mess between them wasn’t as tangible. He hadn’t pulled out yet in fear of getting his sheets dirty; if that were to happen, they’d be caught for sure. He closed his eyes, breath steadying as he cradled his Prince, enjoying the shared heat. “That is fine with me...” his voice is raspy and quiet. He continues to stroke and pet the chest beneath him as they lay there; Komaeda was very thin and fragile, but his pecs were somewhat toned, and Kamukura found himself innocently rubbing around his lover’s upper body to feel his muscles. His upper arms had a bit of build as well, but the rest of him was skinny and frail—not that this mattered; he was amazing and Kamukura loved every last inch of him.

They lie there for a bit longer, until the sweat drying on Komaeda's skin begins to itch and the thought of cleaning up sounds  _ very _ appealing. "Izuru," He says quietly, as if it is a secret between only them. Then again, he supposes it  _ is _ a secret. Everything is. "I fear that if I lay here for another moment I may fall asleep." He huffed a laugh, pressing his nose into sweat dampened hair, "It is rather traitorous of you to be so warm and comfortable when I have things to attend to." 

Komaeda has never been a large, masculine type. Some would say he's rather feminine, and he certainly takes after his mother with his soft lips, long lashes, and thin frame. Kamukura is so opposite of him. All muscle and warmth and tan skin and hair. Opposites attract, he supposes. "Not to mention we must clean up before this becomes hellish to wash." He snorts a laugh.

“Mm.” The Dark Prince hums in acknowledgement and agreement, yet it takes a few moments before he lifts his head from where it was nestled into Komaeda’s neck; he had been falling asleep himself, which could have been a potential disaster if his partner fell asleep too.

“I... I am sorry,” Kamukura instinctively apologizes, blinking away the fatigue as he shifts backwards into the position he had been in a short bit ago, “I was only half-awake myself; I am hurting at the thought that I cannot lay with you and protect you through the night. Even so, cleaning this mess is definitely a priority...”

He is nothing but gentle as he pulls himself out, lifting Komaeda’s hips to rest their undergarments beneath him as a safeguard. He had already showered for the night, but his servants had brought him an extra pail of water so he could wash his face in the morning; he was quick to dunk a cloth rag into the bucket and wring it out, bringing it back to the man sprawled out on his bed. His caresses were tender and sweet as he wiped his lover clean, making sure not a single trace of their affair was left behind. It would be somewhat gross to leave their rags to sit for the servants to deal with (not to mention a giant red flag), but it would also be gross to clean them in water he intended to wash his face with, so he opted to go without doing so in the morning. He prayed he wouldn’t smell too heavily of sweat once the main day came.

“This is by far the strangest negotiation I have ever had.” Kamukura laughs warmly and quietly, red eyes soft as he looks up at the White Prince. He has entirely forgotten that they are both still nude, purely drawn in by the attraction he felt and the love he had for the man in his sheets.

The gentle touches marginally help sooth Komaeda’s aching body. He feels utterly  _ wrecked _ . His muscles are sore and his mind is slow--even his ass has the remnants of a sting when he moves. He knows he will feel it again tomorrow, and he is thankful to have a carriage to ride back home in rather than his personal horse.  _ That _ would be a nightmare. 

Home... the word feels strange in relation to his castle. To his kingdom in general. It feels misplaced. Rather, his home has shifted to a smaller location. A smaller state of being. Here, with Kamukura, his Dark Prince with ruby eyes that sear through him in darkness. Inhuman with a far too human soul. This is his home. Location matters not so long as Komaeda is by his side, in his arms, breathing against him... this is what he has desired for the entirety of his life without even knowing it. 

"But I'm sure the most productive one. We certainly came to a conclusion." Komaeda grins, eyes twinkling at his childish joke. It lightens his mood, returning his mind from the thoughts of having to leave soon. Their tryst is almost over... it hurts. It  _ aches _ . He would not wish this torture upon his enemies, for it feels like he is being torn apart limb from limb. His smile reflects it, fading slightly at the edges despite his best efforts. Try as he might, his thoughts are plagued with sorrow for his eventual departure, but he hides it for Kamukura. He has to.

Kamukura smiles a bit wider at the joke, lightly squeezing a creamy thigh in affection. “You are right. It will take quite a bit of preparation—and we will have to pick and choose what to bring as we will only be able to take what we can carry on our backs—but it will work.” He inspects the body in front of him; long legs were wrapped behind him at the calves, lightly tugging Kamukura towards him. One of Komaeda’s hands rested on his belly, rising and falling gently with his breath. There was a single bruise on the lower part of his neck closer to his collarbone—the Dark Prince felt a twinge in his heart as he absentmindedly reached up to touch the teeth marks on his own sternum. They both had left traces of themselves on the other man as a reminder of their love. Even when they were inevitably going to be apart, there would be a sign of their affair lingering for days as a reminder that their separation was only temporary. Kamukura looked up at Komaeda only to pick up on his deepening sadness and he frowned himself; it pained him more to see the man upset than his own sorrows did. It was clear that the white-haired man was attempting to mask it, but his softened pale eyes and fading smile revealed what he had been thinking.

Kamukura tugs their undergarments out from beneath Komaeda’s ass, careful not to hurt the other man as he does so. He moves backwards on his bed, gingerly lifting a pale leg in an attempt to slide the undergarments on for him. “Oh, my love, please do not fret. I wish to do a final thing with you before we part; we must dress first.”

The White Prince moves so Kamukura can dress him, his throat feeling tight as he clenches his teeth against tears of sorrow. He knows he shouldn't cry. Their last moments together should be filled with joy and love, but he dreads returning to the cold, empty walls of his castle. 

He shakes his head to clear his thoughts, staring at the ceiling for a moment in determination before sitting up and finding the rest of his clothes. He will see Kamukura again. They will run away. Off to secluded lands where they will be happy. Peaceful. 

"What are your thoughts, Izuru?" He asks, tilting his head as he ties back his robes. He doesn't think the name on his tongue will ever get old.  _ Izuru, Izuru, Izuru... _ It sounds like praise. Like a hymn. He finds himself smiling, mouthing the name silently to himself.

The sound of Kamukura’s name in the other man’s mouth makes the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. For such an angel to say his given name with such grace and such love was an absolute blessing.

“This room, when I am to be wed, will be mine and my beloved’s.” He effortlessly ties his robes at well, moving to his vanity to brush the mess his hair had become. He closes his eyes in peace. “I am a simple man, but I have always had one wish—whomever my partner would be, I wanted to watch the stars with them from the balcony. Just once.” He smiles, eyes still closed as he continues to brush. “Because  _ you _ are my beloved, my White Prince, I will never be able to do this with you. We will never see a grand wedding and I will never get to wake up next to you in this bed. We may watch the stars from wherever our feet carry us, but the sky from the mezzanine has always been my favorite.”

He sets his brush down—gold plated, which he always felt was unnecessary—and approaches Komaeda, holding out a welcoming hand. “Will you indulge me? Just for a moment?”

Without even a moment of hesitation, Komaeda takes the proffered hand. Reveling in the feeling of their hands slotting together perfectly, as if they were designed to be together, he nods. "Nothing would make me happier, my only love." _ Only. _ .. his only love. The phrase slips out easily, and he knows it is true. This has turned into something far greater than a one night indulgence--not that it was anything like that from the start. The moment he laid eyes on Izuru Kamukura, the Dark Southern Prince made of brooding eyes and firm demands, he knew that if he were to die it would be beside him. 

They walk out to the balcony together, Komaeda immediately clinging to his lover's side against the chilled night air. It is comfortable. It is safe. 

"I have always enjoyed star gazing," His voice is soft, carrying weight to it as he speaks, "I like to imagine that, somewhere, someone is staring at the same star I am. It cures loneliness, should one feel alone." Thankful for the darkness of the balcony, he lies his head on Kamukura's shoulder to further hide his blush.

Kamukura is so incredibly thankful for Komaeda. Truthfully, before he had come along, the Dark Prince would have believed that he was dead. Incapable of feeling emotion, his heart hung heavy with the weight of his burdens and crippling loneliness. The man glued to his side is almost exactly his opposite; he is from the North and brings a sense of warmth and security everyplace he steps compared to Kamukura, who frightened people and lived along the Southern coastline. Komaeda is pale, yet the sunshine he brings with him is so impossibly warm that the heat thawed Kamukura’s cold heart almost immediately upon meeting him. His arms wrapped around the lean waist to hold him as he peered up at the sky, resting his head against the one buried in his shoulder. Never would Kamukura have guessed that he was capable of feeling like this; heart airy and in his throat, wanting—no,  _ needing _ —someone to be by his side as badly as he needed Komaeda. He was certain they were soulmates. It had only been a day, but the man had never been so sure of anything in his life.

“That is quite possible.” Kamukura presses a kiss to the white hair, unable to stop himself. His arms hug him tighter. “Especially if you are looking at the brighter objects in the sky, such as Polaris or Venus.” The Dark Prince yawned; he had been tired before, but after exerting the energy he had left, he was truly exhausted. “Are you familiar with the night sky, Nagito? I do not know if you have the time nor the boredom to read as many books as I.”

"I used to read quite often, but I have stopped in recent years. I have gotten into the habit of gardening after my mother. Someone has to maintain it." Komaeda shrugs one shoulder, "I have always been fond of fiction, rather than factual books. One could say I like the escapism of it all. If I were more talented, I would write my own, but such is life." He laughs softly, feeling warm from the hug.

“I see. Gardening is a hobby that suits you, I think—it is a very gentle and calming hobby.” Kamukura shifts his focus from the sky down to the courtyards for a moment, trying to see all of the flowers and greenery in the dark. “I tend to gravitate toward factual and historical books; I like to learn.” He reaches for one of Komaeda’s hands, interlacing their fingers and rubbing his knuckles with his thumb. “For example, did you know that homosexuality used to be accepted and even encouraged in Ancient Greece? They believed that you would fight better on the battlefield if you had your lover by your side because you were eager to impress and protect them.”

Komaeda hums in thought, "Perhaps we should move to Greece." He laughs softly, "It makes sense, far more sense than fighting for women I can hardly tolerate. Are you aware of Princess Tsumiki? I am to marry her, which is an odd feeling, considering I have met her once in my life and she did not cease sobbing for the entirety of the visit." He grimaces at the memory, "Kind as she may be... I do not think I would manage long as her husband. She is far too meek..."

He squeezes Kamukura's hand, "Ancient Greece was smart... for I would die for you in a heartbeat, my love. The Princess is a small, unlit match compared to your sun." His lips quirk up mischievously, "In addition... you have a cock."

Kamukura chuckles at the mention of Tsumiki. “I met her once a few years ago... It was a brief meeting for the same exact reason. That was back when they first started introducing women to me in the hopes that I would court one. Because it was so early, they never made me meet her again, thinking I would find another woman after her. I am sorry you are being forced into that.” 

Komaeda’s hand in his is warm and it is comforting. The thought of him marrying someone else made his heart ache, but he had to keep reminding himself that they were going to run away. The White Prince was his. They weren’t going to be in their kingdoms much longer; it was okay. “Princess Enoshima is coming again in a few days; I do not know if you have heard of her. They are insistent on getting me to marry soon; I fear that they will force me onto her, and she is an absolutely despicable woman.”

He is content listening to his lover speak, but he nearly chokes at the final remark. “I-Indeed, I do,” Kamukura laughs, letting his hand move to rest on his rear, squeezing lightly in tease. “You are only into men, then? I... did not think I was attracted to anyone, to be honest. You are the first person I have ever felt attracted to. I never considered men, though; I just thought I hadn’t met the right woman.” He grins, chuckling a bit as he slaps Komaeda’s ass softly. “Breasts are nice, but I think after what you have shown me, I’d take what you boast between your legs any day.”

The White Prince yelps quietly at the squeeze, his face erupting in heat. He does so again at the slap and presses his face into Kamukura's shoulder, laughing. 

"Correct; I have never found a woman I have been attracted to. Only men." His heartbeat picks up as he says it out loud, still scared of repercussions despite knowing he is in safe company, "I tended to watch the stable boys do their work and nearly got caught once by an advisor. I had to tell him _ 'I merely admired their work.' _ " He throws up air quotes for that bit and snorts. 

Kamukura smiles at the thought of a nervous Komaeda trying to sheepishly watch the men work. He seemed like the type of man who was initially very shy, if their meeting was anything to go off of. The idea of him doing something so bold at the risk of getting caught was strangely endearing. His hand moves back to Komaeda’s waist.

The white-haired man’s expression falls slightly serious as he takes in the gardens beneath him. "Enoshima... I have not met her. Her kingdom is even larger than yours, she would not waste time with one as small as mine. But... I have heard the stories of her reign."

Kamukura’s nose scrunches at the thought of her, recalling the way she laughed loudly and always flipped her cascade of strawberry blonde hair. Superficially speaking, she was beautiful, but on the inside, she was as rotten as a corpse. Her kingdom could be described as cultish and he had heard rumors that if a subject defied her, they would be executed without question.

“They have tried to get me to marry Enoshima from the very beginning. I met her shortly after I met Tsumiki, and even though I was clear about how I felt about her, my advisors still set up meetings. I refused to travel to her so she came to me every time, and she was always so... touchy and arrogant with me.” Kamukura’s hand loosens a bit in Komaeda’s. “She has always given me compliments and tries to persuade me into courting her; it’s unsettling and I am always pleading with my advisors to cease this, but I am starting to believe they see me as a tool more than a person. Not only do they want me to court her because of our looks—they are always talking about how beautiful our children will be—but with the size of our kingdoms, we would be incredibly powerful if merged together.” He sighed, resting his head on Komaeda’s. “I do not want power. I want to feel alive.”

Suffice to say the whole ordeal shatters Komaeda's heart. A ball is forming in his throat that he swallows around before placing the back of his hand on Kamukura's head, tangling his fingers in his hair and softly scratching the scalp. Komaeda has never met Enoshima, but he feels an inexplicable hatred for her. How  _ dare _ she violate such a gentle, caring man. Kamukura needs quiet love; he needs a soul that will hear him. Enoshima seems loud in every sense of the word, and from the rumors Komaeda has heard, she rules her kingdom with an iron fist. Heaven knows how she would be in  _ marriage. _ The thought fills him with dread. 

"It's alright," Komaeda says, fingers continuing their soft caresses, "She sounds horrific. I have never been one for outgoing demeanors, I much prefer the quiet of night and soft corners." He hums, "Children mean nothing if the mother is a swamp witch. I think I would prefer Tsumiki's constant cries to the skeletons in Enoshima's closet." He leans back and presses a kiss to Kamukura's temple, their chests pressed together and, if Komaeda focuses, he thinks he might feel the other's heartbeat. 

"She will  _ not _ have you. I won't let her. I would shoot her with an arrow through the heart before she so much as touches you. You are mine and I am yours. Not even a ring will be enough to represent my undying love for you, my Dark Prince."

Kamukura closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of long fingers in his hair. His heart is heavy and he can feel warm tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. There is pressure building in his sinuses and he hates thinking about everything; this must have been why he swallowed his emotions for so long. Why did everything have to be so difficult?

“I am so,  _ so _ thankful for you, Nagito Komaeda.” He presses his lips to Komaeda’s head and holds him so tight, he can feel frail ribs beneath his arms. He buries his face in his hair, fighting off tears. “You walked into my life right as I needed you. We were brought to each other for a reason. You are meant to be my husband—my soulmate—and I will fight to the death for you. Anything you desire, I will get for you. Anything that tries to harm you, I will protect you from. I am a loveless soul, yet I fell in love with you the moment I met you.” He curses himself for letting uncertain emotions bubble to the surface when they were supposed to be rejoicing; they were supposed to be celebrating their time together and preparing for their parting. Yet Kamukura feels a hot tear slip down his cheek and he shrinks in on Komaeda, feeling small for the first time in his life. 

“If I am forced to marry Enoshima and disallowed from seeing you, I shall die by my own sword. And Tsumiki is very sweet, but I am going to be selfish and rude and rob her of her fiancé. My angel, when is your wedding date?” His voice is nearly a whisper, the crickets in the garden below louder than he. “We must run away before then.  _ Please _ .”

"Two months time." Komaeda mumbles, voice a bit flat as he strains against emotion, "I am to marry in two months time from yesterday. We  _ will _ run away. I could not bear hearing word of your marriage, knowing her hands were on you, her lips kissing you when it should... be... m-me." His voice finally cracks and his face pinches. With a breath, he takes Kamukura's hand, the other remaining buried in soft, dark hair. He holds it up to his lips, kissing his knuckles, "My father left me his wedding ring. It has been passed down in my family for lifetimes. I think... it should look beautiful on you." He smiles against the hand, "My silent claim over you. We could run to a distant village in the hills... I could farm... you could live in comfort and safety." 

At the sound of Kamakura's weak voice, he glances back up at the stars, "My love, it will be okay. I swear to you, it will. My misfortune ends here."

Kamukura blinks, feeling for a moment as if their roles have been reversed; he is the fragile one and Komaeda is his protector, unmoving and unflinching in the face of despair. Upon the mention of a wedding ring, his hurt expression falters a bit and a hint of a smile starts to twitch onto his face. “Nagito...” he breathes, the lips against his knuckles ever so gentle, “I would love that, Nagito. I want nothing more than to die next to you in peace. We will never have to worry about trivial things again such as forced marriages or negotiations.” 

The Dark Prince pulled the White Prince into an embrace, squeezing him tightly and rocking him slightly in his arms. “I will give you a token of my love to take back with you. You must leave soon, my love, and though I ache at the thought, I believe with a piece of me carried with you, I will be much more at ease.” As punctuation, Kamukura presses their lips together, sighing into the kiss. He will never grow tired of this feeling.

As their lips touch Komaeda presses them as closely as he can, wishing that he could morph their bodies together as one just so he would never have to leave. It isn't heated like earlier, nor is it rushed like their firsts... no, it is gentle and unhurried. Gentle waves folding onto a cool beach after the storm has abated. He revels in the feeling, holding close the fact that, soon, he will be able to experience this every day. At the thought, he smiles into the kiss, happy to leave on a bittersweet note as this, because at least he has hope in him. He has something to hold on to. "Yes, my love? Anything. I will carry it with me always and guard it like a precious stone."

The Dark Prince hums, groping behind him for the door handle back into his room. Their lips part and Kamukura feels soft; he could melt in the other man’s arms and be entirely content. He takes his hand out of Komaeda’s to palm at his cheek, wiping the lingering tear tracks. “It may perhaps be just that.”

He leads his love back into his room and closes the door behind him, moving over to his closet. He opens the door and walks inside—it is  _ huge _ , far too large for him, he feels—and removes his regal jacket from where it always hung. Carrying it back out, he drapes it across his bed, leaning down to fuss with his regalia. His dark jacket is  _ covered _ with jewels and medallions; they all had meaning, but he had long forgotten what they were. They bored him anyway.

Finally he had managed to pluck something off and he turned back to Komaeda, reaching out for his hand. A large brooch made of blood-red jewels was pressed into the pale palm and Kamukura closed Komaeda’s fingers over it, squeezing the hand with both of his.

“I do not remember what most of my regalia means, but this in particular was given to me when I reached the age to be wed.” He smiles gently, red eyes softening and his hair back in his face like it tended to. “I do not have an heirloom—I do not know who ruled before me; they will not tell me, and I have no parents—so this is the closest thing I have. Let this act as your talisman while you are away from me, and may it be a magnet to bring you back to me as quickly as possible.”

Komaeda stares down at the brooch in silent awe of its beauty. Kamukura has...  _ much _ more regalia on his coat than him, all shining and beautiful and so, so  _ meaningless _ . In his mind, Komaeda can see it: Kamukura standing before a counsel, straight faced with boredom as he receives another metal for  _ "yet another crowning achievement for your people!" _ Even the picture in his thoughts is enough to leave a sour taste in his mouth. 

"Oh, Izuru... it's beautiful." He whispers, already thinking of where he will pin it on his own coat in the morning, "I will wear it always, and when I press it to my lips before bed I shall think of you." He doesn't ask about Kamukura's past, since he, for all intents and purposes, couldn't care less. Of course, if Kamukura wishes to say more on the subject, he will listen earnestly, but perhaps another time. He leans over and kisses the man deeply, wrapping his arms around him and  _ squeezing. _ "Will you see me off tomorrow? Or shall I leave early and save us the heartache of a final wave for now?" He whispers as they pull apart, their faces close.

Kamukura closes his eyes when they kiss to savor every second, not knowing when they will kiss again. When they are parted, he will feel those same lips on his, a phantom reminder of the man whom he desperately needed by his side.  _ Be still, beating heart _ , he thought, feeling it thump hard against his ribs in distaste,  _ he will return to you. _

“It is up to you, White Prince,” Kamukura whispered, looking deep into the gray eyes inches away from his. They were soft and full, half-obscured by long white eyelashes. He could get lost in them easily. “However... I fear that if I see you off, it will pain me greatly to be unable to kiss you goodbye.”

Komaeda hums in thought and nods, his lips pursed against a frown, "Then I shall leave early. Seeing you, waving and stoic... I could not bear the sight. I much prefer you as I know you to be... so very human, warm... gentle..." He bites his lip again harder against a sting in his throat, "We shall meet again. We  _ must. _ Our distance will be temporary... only short lived..." The words are more for his own comfort than Kamukura and his grip turns iron around the red brooch, "You know you are the luckiest thing to ever happen to me, yes?" His voice is meek, strained and small. He will leave in a few moments but... he needs to be absolutely certain. He has to know that Kamukura is aware of his love, even if it is redundant.

“I... I do.” Kamukura’s voice is tight and he forces a smile, tucking white hair behind Komaeda’s ear and running his fingers down the side of the porcelain face. He refused to let himself crack. “And you are the best thing that could have ever happened to me. You are my emotions; my angel.” He glances back at the door, voice hushed. “So... this is goodbye, then--no, this is not a goodbye... merely a ‘see you soon’. However—I will go mad if I go too long without seeing your beautiful face.” For a final time, Kamukura wrapped the man in his arms and deeply kissed him, soft and lovingly, before pulling back and putting his hand on the door.

“I eagerly await the day that we can be free and I can love you properly. I will see you in every dove, every cloud, every flower; I will keep your ring close to my heart in my breast pocket and sleep with it on my finger.” He gripped the door handle, ruby eyes sparkling with hope even during such a depressing moment. “I love you, Prince Komaeda; may we meet again.”

With that, he forced himself to open the door, the noise alerting the guards down the hall. Kamukura’s face was blank, tilting his chin. “We have managed to complete negotiations; Prince Komaeda wishes to return home. Accompany him to the guest room so he may gather his things.” Giving one last glance at Komaeda, he let out a barely-audible sigh, shutting his chamber door.

The door shuts behind Komaeda and it feels like he is leaving a piece of himself behind. He  _ aches _ all the way to his bone marrow. In his hand, the brooch feels heavy and warm, and he squeezes it for assurance, pretending that, somehow, Kamukura might feel it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a complete work!! it's just the editing that has to be done; it will be updated as each chapter is fixed up!


	3. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a series of letters sent back and forth and a surprise visit from a third person, a plan is formulated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot that this needed edited oh my god i'm so sorry
> 
> this chapter is a little shorter too but i'll post the rest of them very soon!!
> 
> enjoy xx

Komaeda is guided back through the castle to his room and, by morning, he is gone. Any trace of the White Prince is wiped clean of this kingdom aside from memories. The ride home in his small carriage is lonely, and he finds the beautiful sights of the expansive countryside to be dulled. 

Of course, that does not mean the world isn't alight within him. He's in _love._

It causes sparks to fly from every surface and water to flow a bit more swiftly; yet, the bittersweet tang does not leave. He is greeted happily upon his arrival, people waving in the streets cheerfully, children chasing the carriage as he laughs. His servants prepare a beautiful warm bath and he explains how the negotiations went. 

The mood immediately plummets when he looks in the mirror to see the mark on his neck. He pretends it is the bathwater staining his cheeks.

Once he is dry and in his nightgowns, Komaeda pulls out a pen and ink, setting it on the paper with a sigh. 

_Prince Kamukura,_ he begins, then stops, anxiety gnawing at his gut. What should he say? What _can_ he say? Should their note be intercepted... he frowns at the thought and continues. 

_I believe it to be pertinent that we maintain good relations. Perhaps you would be interested in accompanying me on a hunting trip in a month's time? It would certainly be beneficial to both of our kingdoms for our..._ he grins to himself, **_union_ ** _to be solidified. Please respond with haste, and may your reign be holy._ He signs it and sits back, running a hand through his hair. By the morning, it is sent, and his life continues.

Kamukura lingers a while by his bedroom door even after he is certain that Komaeda and the guards are gone. He can only hear his own shallow breathing as he holds the wedding band in his hand, toying with it in the hopes that it would bring him comfort. He was already aching and he wanted nothing more than to beckon the man back, insisting that their negotiations weren’t quite finished and were important enough to last overnight, solely so he could hold him in his arms and sleep. But he knew it would be better in the long run to let his Prince go, and thus he slid the ring on his finger, blowing out the oil lamps and drawing his curtains. 

He laid in bed for hours before he could fall asleep; the smell of sweat had long gone away and what remained was the vanilla and lavender of Komaeda, and if he closed his eyes and focused enough, he could have pretended he was laying next to him. _This_ was the thought that finally pulled him under.

He had been hesitant to emerge from his chambers until the afternoon in case Komaeda still lingered; he had nothing else to do for the day and opted to go to his library and read until he was tired again. Rather than reread his typical genre, Kamukura chose to read a fiction novel instead, trying to see if he could get into the story like Komaeda could. Unfortunately, he had only made it about a quarter way through before becoming bored and setting it down. He was back to the constant boredom he had felt before. Komaeda had truly brought color and life to these dull stone walls, and without the man by his side to tug at his emotions, he was entirely blank. Now that he had experienced such strong emotion he craved it; it was _that_ emptiness that bored him even further.

A few days had passed since and his love had been on his mind every waking minute. Even when Enoshima’s boisterous self came to visit, he tuned her out and tried to imagine her as a lean, pale man with a smile like the sun and eyes like emeralds. He truly hated this woman and his advisors had him cornered. The only time Komaeda had slipped from his thoughts was when his advisors announced that they had made the ultimate decision of a wife for him because of his difficulty, finalizing the union between he and Enoshima and setting dates. 

His blood was loud in his ears and his breath was short and quick, yet he tried to cover it with his blank expression and silence; Nanami had been close by and had picked up on his unease, pulling him aside the second she was able to and instinctively moving in to hug him. She caught herself, stopping and twitching her hands before letting her arms fall to her side. She wanted nothing more than to comfort him that way. _But alas, I am not allowed to touch royalty. We are not children anymore._

“Your Highness, you have received a letter from Prince Komaeda.” Her voice is soft and quick, as if she knows that its contents are potentially secretive. Kamukura blinks, his heart even heavier at the thought of his love, and thanks her. When she is turned away, he presses the paper to his lips, tucking it within the breast pocket the wedding band was hidden in.

He waited until he could return to his chambers to read the letter, smiling at the clever structure of his sentences. _You are a gem, Nagito, and I love you._ Still heavy with despair, he picks up a quill and dips it in the inkwell, writing back to him.

 _Prince Komaeda, it would be a pleasure to accompany you on such a trip._ He stops, thinking. There is a brief pang of terror at the thought of someone stealing and reading their letter—or worse, _Enoshima_ —and opts to be as formal as he possibly could. He exhales loud and hard, wedging a hand in the front of his hair. God, he didn’t want to tell him this. His calloused hand shakes as he continues, feeling slight tears of defeat pricking his eyes.

 _However..._ he stops again, resting his head in his hands for a few minutes before forcing himself to continue. He desperately wanted to pour his heart out and tell him _yes, yes, my love, let us run away and be happy and live out our lives together_ , but he couldn’t. No, he had to hide his feelings, and he just wanted to scream.

He continues, scribbling out ‘however’ to rewrite. _Unfortunately—_ This fit better, he supposed, and meant more, _in a month’s time, I am to be wed, and I do not believe that I will have the space in my schedule before then; preparations are very demanding._ He cursed himself as he felt a tear slip down his cheek, wiping it away with the heel of his palm in annoyance. Why were the emotions he felt when he was alone so negative?

_It is for this reason that I will have to decline your offer but am interested in going once my union is complete. On a similar note, I would like to cordially invite you. It would mean much to me for you to be in attendance; I hope to see you there._

Kamukura can’t think about it much longer, folding it into the envelope and giving it to Nanami to send when she brings him chamomile tea to help him sleep. He’s devastated and upset and disgusted; he has no clue what to do, praying Komaeda won’t be heartbroken, and he holds the wedding ring tight to his lips as he slips under.

Despite this, he is determined to be with the true love of his life, and he only dreams of Komaeda that night.

...

Again. Again. He rereads the letter over and over. _Decline your offer._ Komaeda holds it in shaking hands as he sits at his desk. With aching teeth from how hard he grits them, he fights back tears and stands sharply, fast enough that his chair tips back with a crash. 

"I knew it," he whispers, voice like venom. He knew it was too good to be true. That they would whisk away into the sunset as two lovers and live long, happy lives together. That they could ever make this work. That Komaeda could be truly, undeniably _happy_ for once in his damn life. 

He sets the letter down on his nightstand, his hands flying up to grip his hair as he doubles over, falling on the plush carpet and gasping. When the first few tears fall he doesn't even feel them, too numb to even acknowledge how he must look. A weeping prince in his tower, begging on his knees to be saved by his one true love. What a joke. His bitter resentment grows and grows, his tears coming hot and angry. 

“ _‘I would like to cordially invite you,’_ ” Komaeda scoffs wetly, "Does he wish to watch my heart break before him?" He hisses, a hysterical laugh bubbling up from his throat. "Perhaps! Perhaps he wishes to taunt me?! Hah! Haha!" His laugh sounds nearly like sobs at this point, "How could I attend the wedding and watch them display their affections as I wish I could?" It should be _him_ at the altar with Kamukura. Enoshima has no right, _no possible right,_ to so much as look at his Prince.

When he writes his response later that night, his emotions echo in his handwriting. His usual careful cursive now jagged and rough. _Prince Kamukura_ , he writes, a snarl forming on his lips at the pain he feels, _I believe I must bestow upon you congratulations on your marriage. A happy marriage it will be, and prosperity to both of your kingd—_ The ink smears as a teardrop falls on it and he sets the pen down, staring at the wall before him for a moment before continuing. _—kingdoms. I shall consider your invitation, but as I am quite busy with my own wedding affairs I cannot say whether I will attend._

Komaeda feels like a petulant child, but the hatred... the pure, unfiltered despair crawling through his veins overtakes him. _Give my regards to the Queen._ He signs his name and hands the letter off to a servant, pretending that the tremor in his hand is from exhaustion.

...

Kamukura’s heart shatters as he sits on his bed, elbows on his knees as he is doubled over in pure guilt and pain. He can feel it deep in his chest; it is a physical, searing feeling and for a moment he feels as if he will die right there on his floor of cardiac arrest. The letter Komaeda had sent was warped in certain places and the ink had bled in others, both telltale signs. _He is in pain, too._ Kamukura’s hands moved to his face, rubbing it in shame. _I have broken his heart. He thinks I have played him a fool._

The monster of a prince that was incapable of feeling love and emotion had taken the fragile, pure heart of the White Prince into his palm and crushed it to fine dust between his fingers. He hadn’t meant to— _he had never meant to do this,_ any _of this, really_ —but he had, and imagining how Komaeda felt only made Kamukura hurt worse. His love likely believed all of the rumors that had been spread about the Dark Prince, thinking he had just been a toy to play with to try and quell Kamukura’s boredom. That hadn’t been the case at all, but it was too late to tell Komaeda anything different, for he most likely wouldn’t believe it.

He wanted to go on their “trip” so badly. Every ounce of him loved Komaeda and then some and he wanted to give him the whole world. He just couldn’t find an escape; Enoshima had helped herself to the guest room Komaeda had stayed in not too long before, already in the process of moving things over from her own kingdom. As she was a twin, her sister would continue their reign back home and she would share the power with Kamukura—he had seen right through this and knew she eventually planned to overthrow him entirely, but between his own boredom and his focus on getting Komaeda back into his arms, he couldn’t find the time to care. He was being selfish again, he knew, but his Prince was the most important thing to him. He needed him. _I need you._

Even though his gut told him his words would fall upon deaf ears, Kamukura forced himself to sit down and write to him again, his jaw set tight and eyes watery as his hand moved at breakneck speed. The ink smudged against the side of his hand as he wrote.

 _Prince Komaeda, I understand that you are preparing for your own union; I am congratulating you once more. Despite your business and lack of time, I do hope you are able to find a night out of your schedule to spare in order to accept my invitation. Best wishes to you and to your Queen as well._ His throat is constricted and tears are streaming down his cheeks once more, so he chooses to stop, giving the letter to Nanami when she brings him his nightly tea. She is entirely aware of his swollen eyes and flushed cheeks, but she does nothing but stand in silence for a moment as she considers inquiring. However, she does not, and sends the letter just the same. 

The wedding ring sits on his desk that night.

...

The next letter is much... easier to digest. Komaeda pores over it, rereading it with the same gusto as the first, but with far less ache now. Perhaps he had been too dismissive of Kamukura, his backpedal response too cold shoulder than appropriate. Kamukura certainly seemed regretful...

He glances out the window with a huff, staring at the clouds in the sky as they roll lazily through the bright blue. It would be a nice day for a stroll, and he decides that a walk is just what he needs. He travels through the gardens, trailing his fingertips across leaves and flowers. He stops at a rosebush, his fingers dancing along the petals as he stares at the red hue. It has been nearly a fortnight since he has seen Kamukura, and he had almost forgotten what those red eyes did to him. They set his soul alight. They brightened every color and awakened his resting soul. The memory alone is enough to reignite that ember and, in one quick moment of determination, he sets about making preparations to leave once more. 

In the end, he cuts the flower and presses it overnight, then adds it to the envelope where his letter resides. It reads: _Prince Kamukura, I have chosen to accept your invitation. I shall be attending your wedding, if your grace allows me. And I shall bring my bride to be. I have enclosed a small token of congratulations in the form of a rose, which_ ~~_reminds me of your beautiful eyes_~~ _represents the love between you and your betrothed. I look forward to our meeting once more._ He reads it again, making sure to scribble the words out the best he can and sighing when some of it still shows through. With one more thought he adds, _P.S. Red is perhaps my favorite color. I happen to own a brooch the same color as this rose. A very beautiful color indeed._ Satisfied, he sends it off, praying that it is received well.

...

The wind is light in Kamukura’s hair as he stands on his balcony, rereading the letter over and over again. There are butterflies in his stomach and he feels a _smile_ on his cheeks. There is hope. _He is coming to see me._

The flower pressed inside was beautiful and Kamukura left it sitting propped against his inkwell, passing it and feeling warm every time he glanced at it. He had caught the words Komaeda had drowned in ink and bit his lip, holding back a laugh. He was relieved, feeling a bit of the weight lift off of his shoulders. At the very least, his Prince didn’t hate him and still felt attraction, so long as this would remain, the possibility of their happy ending stayed within reach. All day he thought about what to write, sitting on his balcony in the same spot they’d talked and trying to braid his hair, watching the greenskeepers tend to the gardens. The longer he thought about his response, the bolder he grew, and he began to contemplate dangerous things.

Enoshima had requested him in the late afternoon and he had gone to her if only to avoid hearing her complain. She was overly touchy with him and took out his braid much to his annoyance (claiming his hair looked best untamed and long), and she was talking so quickly and so often about her plans for the kingdom that he couldn’t even get a word in. _That was okay. This will not be mine much longer, anyway; I feel that it does not even belong to me in the first place._

After listening to Enoshima boss him around and plan to undo things he had worked hard on organizing such as their mining operations and fishing procedures, he had made up his mind. Kamukura returned to his room, and hours after the sun dipped below the ocean horizon, his personal horse had been smuggled out of the stables and ridden by someone other than its owner. The Dark Prince opted to sacrifice sleep for the night, sitting awake at his desk and writing and writing and writing; his thoughts were nonstop and continuous and he would likely burn them as soon as he was done. But he had so much on his mind that he couldn’t tell anyone and _God_ he was in love and his heart was light and his Prince would return to him soon. He didn’t want to sleep until his proxy had returned safe, because if they were caught, then someone was certainly going to die. He wouldn’t be able to rest until he knew the answer.

Komaeda finishes his dinner for the evening and considers holing up in the library, but the thought of such a mundane activity when he has so much on his mind seems absurd. How could he read when a million thoughts fly through his conscious? Instead, he goes to the palace gardens once more, silently stepping over the grass and cobblestone paths in search of his rose bush once more. He needs the red like he craves soft kisses, whispered words, and searching hands. The sunset bathes the world in an easy glow, and he watches it fade to pink, dark blue, and finally darkness as the final light fades. Stars replace the clouds and he sits on a bench, staring at them in the warm night. His mind drifts once more, and he thinks, maybe, his true love could be staring at the same stars he is. It brings comfort to him in the silence of the gardens, surrounded by roses and tall grass, the rustling of leaves in the breeze the only sound to be heard.

The proxy had been smart enough to tie Kamukura’s horse—black as the night, of course she was—out into the woods, tracking into the kingdom on the outskirts. Komaeda’s kingdom was a cute place, they thought, noting the market stalls that had been closed up for the night and windows of the common folk that were lit up orange from the inside. They had never been here, as they had never left their home kingdom, but if what they heard about Komaeda was true, his peaceful and kind nature was reflected through the infrastructure. He must have cared deeply for his kingdom.

They had managed to make it outside of the castle grounds, peering up at the large stone walls that caged everything in. Their only option was to scale it.

Once creeping along the side of the wall, careful not to alert any guards, they grabbed hold of loose stone and used them to pull themselves up; the sharp rock scraped their fingers and they slipped and nearly fell several times, but they managed to make it to the top of the wall undetected. It was here that they could see this side of the castle; it was a beautiful building, intricate and regal (but far too large for one person, they thought). The front courtyards were partially in view, but even those were blocked off by stone walls, isolating the garden from everything else. It had been there that they spotted the Prince—bright white in a sea of darkness, peaceful as he sat there. The wind threatened to blow the small proxy right off of the wall, but they quickly dug their fingertips into the stone, starting to move their way down on the other side. They saw no guards and thanked the gods for their luck.

Komaeda, despite the warm summer air of the night, feels a shiver run up his spine. He frowns and casts his eyes away from the stars and into the dimly lit garden. He does this often, sitting out after the sun has set, but never before has he felt unsafe in his own home. Well... it may be, perhaps, more appropriate to say that before meeting Kamukura he had never cared about dying. 

His eyes dart to the shadows and he stiffens, painfully and suddenly aware of his vulnerability. Perhaps it is a servant that strayed too far, or a guard who merely came to check on him... however doubtful both options are. Despite his better judgement, he calls out softly into the night, "Hello?"

The proxy instinctively flinches at the voice, freezing in their tracks. However, they realize that this is possibly a _good_ thing—as long as no guards heard Komaeda call out, they were fine. Their footsteps were light, shoes squeaking lightly on the dewy grass as they ducked behind neatly trimmed hedges and bushes. Every so often they saw a rose bush and a smile crept onto their face, thinking of the one Kamukura had shown them.

Nervously—yet determinedly—they emerged from behind a hedgerow, standing tall and taking a few steps forward. They were careful not to walk too far, because they ran the risk of someone else seeing them, but Kamukura had dressed them in his black regal jacket and pants; it was likely difficult to see them in the night. Royal insignia jingled as she approached carefully, holding a finger to her lips. 

Nanami wore a black hood beneath the jacket to hide her face, but she was there nonetheless, and once she was positive the prince saw her she gave a gentle wave with a smile.

Komaeda startles, freezing on the bench as fear shoots through him. Thoughts of warnings his parents had given about night assassins ring through his mind until it all comes to an abrupt halt when he sees the intruder's face. 

" _Nanami?_ " He whispers, bewildered. The servant girl from Kamukura's castle stands before him, adorned in black from head to toe, and tip-toeing to him. A small smile melts his shocked expression and he waves back, shaking his head, "What are you doing here? Did you _sneak in?_ You nearly stopped my heart in fear!" He says it lightly, laughing breathily and clutching his chest as he breathes.

The immediate change in energy and seeing Komaeda laugh and smile made Nanami giggle as well, tapping her lips with the side of her finger.

“Shh, shh, please be quiet, Your Highness,” Nanami’s soft eyes are bright in the night, standing out against her black clothes, “I do not want anyone to hear and fear you are talking to yourself.”

She glances back toward the garden wall, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Yes. Izzy has messages he wanted to send but they couldn’t be sent on paper in case they were intercepted; he did not want to risk your execution.” She holds out her arms, allowing Komaeda to see the jacket. “He sent me out in his clothes in case I was caught—I am a sacrifice if things go bad; I will say I am a spy for our kingdom and will likely be tried and jailed at the very least, but he figured that would be better than keeping me in my servants’ clothes and risking my safety alone. At least he would take some of the brunt if I appear to be working under his instruction... which I am.”

She shook her head. “Ah—s-sorry, I am rambling and forgot—oh no—“ she quickly bowed, realizing she hadn’t done that earlier, “a-anyways, Izzy has a message for you. It is not on paper; I am to relay it myself.”

Komaeda blinks at the information, impressed, but not surprised, by Kamukura's forward thinking. It was a genius plan and he finds his smile melting into one of soft adoration, "He is quite smart, isn't he?" His blood turns cold and he frowns, "Ah, er, I mean, as most Kings are, I suppose. Quite a genius; a very good strategy." He wrings his hands in front of him. Does Nanami know? Did Kamukura tell her? Surely she must at least suspect, or else she wouldn't be here... or perhaps she plans to reveal their affair? His stomach drops, but he ignores it, opting to trust Kamukura's judgement. 

"There is no need for formalities, Nanami. Please refrain from bowing to me, if you would. I find it... distasteful. I do not consider you lesser than me." He blinks and leans forward, smiling at the usage of "Izzy" in her speech. "What is the message?"

She nods in understanding, expression serious, yet her cheeks are puffed and the jacket is far too long for her. “He wanted me to begin by thanking you for accepting his invitation. He is exuberant, actually; he had feared you would cut ties entirely and would have sent me on a far more dangerous mission than this one.” She smiles. “It is difficult to win someone’s heart back on the behalf of someone else.”

Komaeda’s heart flutters and he relaxes. "...You know?" He asks, still weary. He keeps his question vague, fearful of the answer should it be the wrong one he is looking for. Still, he finds himself inexplicably trusting Nanami, her kind, tired eyes so open and honest.

Her expression softens and she can’t hide her widening smile, rubbing her chin. “I had suspected you from the very beginning, if I am honest. When Izzy stormed out of the meeting room I was able to tell immediately.” She winks. “In all of the years I have known him, he has never been able to braid his hair.”

A blush blooms across his cheeks. He hadn't even _considered_ how obvious that must have been. Mentally, he slaps himself, a bewildered laugh bubbling up in him. "Goodness... I do not know whether you are too observant or I am just foolish. Perhaps both." His hand travels up to his hair, tugging on a strand there, and he pauses, eyes growing sad, "...I love him so ardently, Nanami. I do not know what to do." He sighs, happy to have someone to confide in, "Is there more to the message?"

“Perhaps both!” She jokes, quickly adding, “and I know you do.” Her voice is gentle and she folds her hands, tilting her head, “and he loves you just as much. It is so refreshing to see him... _experiencing_ things and finally learning how to be happy.” She stops, relaying two decades’ worth of memories in her head before looking back up at Komaeda with a nod.

“Yes. He sent me rather than a letter because he wishes to formulate a plan; if you are visiting for the wedding—“ her expression contorts slightly at the thought of it; _no one_ liked Enoshima save for the advisors, “—then he wishes to use that time frame to finally run away with you, if you will allow it.” These are not even her words, yet her heart is hammering hard in her chest at the thought. She will ache without her childhood friend close by, but knowing he was happy and free and with his love would be enough to keep her satisfied.

Komaeda stands suddenly, his hands joining together over his chest in excitement, "He still wants to? Oh, Nanami, I would love nothing more! Being without him is a pain I cannot describe in words. I would dispatch Enoshima myself to have him if I must. She does not deserve his kind heart... rather, she will keep it locked away like a slab of pasture meat in a dungeon. He deserves the world in its entirety." His eyes go distant at the thought of Kamukura, and after a moment they snap back to Nanami. "...Will you be alright?"

“He had wept every night since he had gotten your first letter because he feared breaking your heart. He broke down and told me everything tonight in the hope that my last resort trip to you would work. Believe me, he would wait years for you, Your Highness. He is madly in love with you.” She instinctively goes to bow but catches herself. Nanami is glad to hear that Komaeda hates Enoshima too. “She already intends to. She is slowly but surely seizing control of his castle but he is too bored and in pain to care.”

"I have wept nightly as well. Life feels... so plain without him. Colorless." He aches to see him, knowing it will only be a bit more time before they can and this entire, painful affair will be behind them. If Enoshima is already on her way to taking control, perhaps people won't notice their eventual escape into nothing.

Her expression falls uneasy at the thought of her Prince becoming submissive. Kamukura was always bored, yes, but this was much worse—at least before he would stand his ground. “I... will be okay.” She smiles, yet it isn’t that convincing. “I will stay under Enoshima’s reign until I have a clear plan of where to escape to, and then I will flee. Please do not worry.”

Komaeda shakes his head, "Come with us." His voice is soft, "Enoshima will not treat you well. I fear our eventual meeting based on merely the stories I have heard about the Princess. She seems more like a devil the more I learn." He grimaces, "I have considered faking my own death. Perhaps you could come up with a similar plan." _Do not worry_ seems like such a hollow sentiment when he has already chosen to worry _very_ much about Nanami. Komaeda has hardly known the girl for long, but he thinks he would trust her with his life.

Nanami furrows her brow, averting her pink gaze. “Thank you, but I do not want to intrude. You both need to escape and live your lives the way you are meant to live them; I promise I will find a way out. Faking my death might be the only way, but even so, I will ensure my safety. For yours and Izzy’s sake.” She tightens the jacket around herself; the wind is picking up slightly and she is cold. 

“Enoshima is a she-devil. She has a way of making people believe her lies and sucking them in, and the second they wander too far she captures them, like a Venus fly trap.” Nanami looks visibly disgusted. “I am Izzy’s personal servant exclusively, yet she treats me like hers and orders me to do the most mundane of things. She is rude to all of the servants and is acting like she has lived there for years. I...” She bites her tongue, but eventually she spits with pure venom, “I _hate_ her, Prince Komaeda, and I do not like using that word.”

He grimaces, "I have yet to meet her, but I assure you if she so much as lays a hand on you or Izuru I will..." What _will_ he do? What _can_ he do? Komaeda fears the wedding, knowing that they will be in the same location, having to see her and not wrap his hands around her neck. He knows he mustn't, and he has never been a man of violent tendencies... but...

He huffs in frustration and moves past her, "You may come inside, Nanami. We can take the servant's passage to remain undetected. There is a fireplace in my library... unless you need to return to your kingdom."

Nanami sighs, understanding his feelings entirely, and merely watches him in quiet empathy. Upon the invitation she lets out a noise of conflict, wanting to follow but knowing she couldn’t.

“Ah, thank you very much for the invitation, Your Highness, but I am afraid I will have to decline.” She adjusts her hood. “As much as I want to follow, I must return to my kingdom. Izzy refuses to sleep until I am home safe with the news that you have received his message.”

Komaeda nods, hand drifting up to stroke one of the delicate rose petals, "That is understandable... he is quite the worrywart. So pessimistic." He giggles and drops his hand, "In that case, will you return a message for me? Tell him... it will be alright. I dream of his arms, and his eyes. Tell him that I love him more than life itself, and I will let nothing come between us. _Nothing_ ." There is a glint of something behind his eyes, "Enoshima knows nothing of humanity, of _hope,_ and should she interfere I will have her head if I must." The dangerous look fades into a soft, nearly bashful one, "And... tell him I have practiced new braiding techniques with the royal stylist." He blushes, thankful for the dark of night.

An endeared smile spreads across the woman’s face and she nods, the regalia jingling. 

“Absolutely, Your Highness.” A look flickers across her face and she flinches, opening the jacket and digging around for an interior pocket. “Oh! I almost forgot...” she laughs nervously, “he would have been so cross with me...”

She fishes out something that had been tucked in the breast pocket, holding out her palm. In her hand is a gold ring adorned with pure diamond studs around the width of the band; there is a single blood-red ruby amidst the white, standing out against the contradicting stone. 

“This is the wedding band that was forged for him when he became engaged to Enoshima. He wishes for you to have it as you have given him a ring of your own; its stones were mined from our very own kingdom, so he believes the sentiment is even greater.” Nanami tucks her free arm behind her back. “With the acceptance of this ring, he wishes to solidify your union. He is devastated that he is going to be married to a Witch before he will get to kiss you again, but he would walk through fire and flame to reach you if he must. You are his true love.” She bows her head a bit. “Those are his words.”

"Ah..." Komaeda takes the ring, eyes wide and sparkling. His throat feels tight, and as he slips it over his finger he finds his vision going blurry. "Hah... it's beautiful..." Voice soft and watery, his blinking only makes the tears fall onto porcelain cheeks. "Oh dear..." he mutters, bringing his other hand up to cover his eyes. 

Marriage. A _true_ marriage between lovers. Which, yes, they are in _love,_ true and unfiltered in the purest sense. Kamukura would _walk through fire and flame_ for him, and Komaeda knows he would do the same in a heartbeat. He would die for him if he must. Kill for him. He would fight for their love until his dying breath. A shaking sob escapes him, but it is not of grief or pain, rather, it is a sob of disbelief. Throughout his poor excuse of a life as royalty, Komaeda has never considered a happy ending for himself. No family, no friends, withering away in mind and body until he is forced to step down from the throne and live in poverty, dying alone and broken. Now, the endless expanse of possibilities awaits him with Kamukura, and he cannot believe it. It feels like a dream. 

He smiles through watery eyes, "Of course I accept. Of course. Thank you, Nanami. You have no idea of the hope you have brought me."

Nanami can not hide her grin, breath shallow as she feels euphoric _for_ him, watching him cycle through these emotions and weep in happiness. A growing urge flows through her and she swallows, holding herself back; yet, she feels powerful in Kamukura’s regalia and insignia. Her eyes flick aside for a moment—back and forth between the empty space of the gardens and the elated Prince before her—and in a rush of adrenaline, she reaches out, tugging him into an embrace. It is almost comical—for he is so tall and she is so short—but she can’t help herself. She squeezes him as tightly as she can, enjoying the physical touch of someone else for the first time in over a decade, and tears of her own glitter her eyelashes. He smells warm and homely, and for a moment, she entirely understands why Kamukura had described him as such.

There is no hesitation as Komaeda hugs her back with just as much enthusiasm. He rests his cheek on her head, sniveling pathetically. It's odd, now easily he has come to trust Nanami. Were she to pull a knife on him, he would still trust her. In a similar way to Kamukura, he feels connected to her. Not romantically, of course, but she emits the same safety as the other prince. It's nice, he thinks, to have a friend after so long of feeling the weight of being alone. Even amidst the odd circumstances. Other than Kamukura, this is the most physical affection he has received since his mother passed.

"Nanami, be safe... please. The moment things go wrong I should hear your footsteps from the horizon." He says firmly.

She pulls away from him far too quickly for her liking, but she fears overstepping by holding him for too long. She nods, beginning to step backwards.

“Absolutely, Your Highness.” Nanami tightens the jacket and fixes her hood, shoes squeaking against the dewy grass once more. “And you should be safe as well. If you find yourself in danger for any reason, write to Prince Kamukura. I will rush to your aid.”

With that, she curtsies, turning on her heel and blending into the darkness again, creeping back the way she came.

He watches her leave with a nod, her form immediately fading into the darkness once more and he is alone again. However, he finds that the emptiness of the garden feels less suffocating than before. Raising his hand up, he watches the red stone glint in the soft light of the distant torches. A giddiness overtakes him and he wipes his eyes, laughing to himself. That night, as he falls asleep, it is with a warmth in his heart and a promise of a future, a welcome weight on his hand guiding him to sleep.

Kamukura had kept his word, sitting awake until Nanami returned. He had stopped writing at one point, his hand cramping up too badly to continue. After he was positive the ink had dried, he looked at his thoughts only to find that towards the end, he had written the same thing over and over again until his inkwell had tipped when he’d tried to dip his quill too quick.

_I love him I love him I love him I love him I love him—_

Nanami had climbed her own castle wall, throwing stones up onto the balcony to signal her arrival. Kamukura’s heart was light in his chest as he grabbed his sheets that they had knotted earlier, meeting her above and tossing the tied silk down and allowing her to climb back up. Upon her feet hitting the stone, the Prince let out a laugh of victory, throwing his arms around her in thanks. She melted in his arms, having missed his embrace, and relayed everything to him. They replaced Kamukura’s clothes in his closet and Nanami put her servants’ dressings back on, and once fixing his bedsheets the way they were meant to be, they parted. It was nearly morning; the sky was beginning to turn a bright pink. He was exhausted (and he knew she was too), so he instructed her to feign sickness so she could rest. Kamukura fell asleep easily, Komaeda’s ring on his finger where it belonged, and he dreamt of his Prince.

Days had passed and he considered writing, but he did not want to bring suspicion upon them, so he opted to feel Komaeda next to him as a phantom. If he thought hard enough, he could feel gentle arms snaking around his waist and soft lips pressing against his neck. The mark his White Prince had left was mostly healed and he found himself disappointed.

However, the ring would never disappear as a symbol of their love, so he was only upset for a moment.


	4. She-Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey, this chapter has homophobia, so if that triggers you please tread with caution!
> 
> thanks!! i hope you enjoy!!
> 
> xx

Standing outside of the castle gates, Komaeda feels... 

Actually, he is not quite sure. 

The last week has been... difficult. The letters with Kamukura have ceased since Nanami's visit, and he doesn't blame Kamukura one bit. Keeping a low profile is more important now than ever. He steps off the carriage fully, his regalia shimmering in the afternoon sunlight, and steps forward to brush a hand over the horses’ snouts. In a moment of blissful peace, the driver, an old friend, smiles at him and he smiles back... only for the spell to be broken by--

"K-K-Komaeda?! My dress is s-stuck!" 

Komaeda sighs, his teeth gritting together, and he walks back to the other side of the carriage. Princess Tsumiki has somehow managed to entangle her skirts in the wooden wheel, slowly ripping the fabric as she tugs on it anxiously. She is crying, which is unsurprising, and he finds the scene far too amusing. Were it not for her distress, he would laugh, but the poor girl doesn't deserve that. He quickly helps untangle her, shaking his head. 

"My Princess," the words feel hollow and sour on his tongue, "How do you manage to do such things? It seems whenever I turn my back you have found a new way to bring yourself harm or embarrassment."

He winces as her cries increase in volume, now turning into a string of apologies. "Sshh, hush. It is alright, just--please be more careful." He takes her hand in his, patting it sincerely. Despite it all, she is quite nice, and certainly undeserving of her fate with a husband who cannot love her. 

"Are you ready to go inside? The King and Queen are expecting us soon... but we can take a moment, if you need to do so." Cautiously, he brings a hand up to her face, wiping the tears away and smiling. 

"I-It is okay." She sniffles, "We can g-go. Th-Thank you." Her voice is so small, but she smiles nonetheless. Komaeda nods and, together, they walk inside.

Kamukura is beyond bored and the chatter of all of the guests was getting on his nerves. He had managed to seclude himself from Enoshima, who was loud and obnoxious and talking to anyone she possibly could reach. Her dress was large and extravagant and it made Kamukura sick to his stomach; she didn’t deserve that. Her husband did not love her (and he knew she only loved him on a superficial level, if even that) and wanted to be wed to someone else. He had quickly tired and bored of socialization and hid himself away in an adjacent room. His advisors were livid and tried to coax him out but he was stubborn as a bull. They finally left him there to return to Enoshima’s side, because truthfully, this wasn’t Kamukura’s wedding anyway—it was hers. Everything was about her.

Kamukura was fine with this.

Nanami had been taking coats and offering seats and everything in between; she had been trying to get to Kamukura for over an hour, but snooty regal guests had been pulling her aside for petty favors the entire afternoon. She was tired and upset and prayed he was doing alright alone.

At the doors, she happened to catch a glimpse of the bright white jacket and its sparkling regalia; her heart skipped and she tried her hardest to hide her excitement, standing in the arches and waiting for them to approach. Once they were close enough though, she smiles politely (a bit wider than necessary) and bows deeply. 

“Good afternoon, Prince Komaeda and Princess Tsumiki.” She lifts her head, looking between the two of them. “The King will be pleased to see you.” The word ‘king’ is spat—only slightly—and she beckons to them. “Would you like me to take anything of yours?”

Upon seeing Nanami, Komaeda instantly brightens, giving her a small smile. "Thank you, but I do not think we have anything. We left it all in our carriage." He tightens his arm around Tsumiki, "Do you, dear?" The woman shakes her head timidly and Komaeda continues, "Your estate looks as lovely as I remember. I am so happy to have been given an invitation for such a momentous occasion. Is the King around? I wish to give my congratulations."

Nanami smiles. She remembers Tsumiki from when she met Kamukura all those years ago; she was timid and meek, but she was so, so kind. It was difficult for her  _ not _ to feel bad for the poor Princess, having knowledge of what would happen to her marriage in the near future. However, her love for her childhood friend outweighed all and so she nodded, scrunching her lips to the side with the tilt of her head.

“His Majesty is sitting in the wardrobe room; it is far too noisy in the ballroom and he wished to get away from the madness for a moment.” Her eyes twinkle. “I am sure he will not mind if you bother him, however.”

Komaeda smiles back and nods, turning to Tsumiki. "My Princess, would you like to go mingle while I catch up with the King? I'm sure this servant would be happy to show you around, or perhaps you can go meet the Queen?" He forces his lips to stay in a smile, narrowly avoiding a harsh grimace at the phrase. "Weddings are wondrous times to meet new friends. I will only be a moment." 

In response, Tsumiki nods, her body language more of a scared stray cat than a person of royalty. She steps away from Komaeda, looking between Nanami and the crowds of people in the distance. She squeaks and her eyes suddenly well up. 

"O-Oh no... I'm being so r-rude! Please f-forgive me!" Suddenly, she is bowing  _ to Nanami _ , tears leaking from her eyes, "...I-I would love to meet the Q-Queen if-if you would a-allow me!"

The small girl is taken aback, never having experienced this before. This woman—a  _ princess _ \--is bowing to  _ her _ —a mere servant. Nanami stumbles on her words, unsure of what to say at first.

“U-Um, you were not being rude! It is alright!” She ducks down to try and look Tsumiki in the face; already there are globs of tears rolling down her cheeks and smearing her makeup. Nanami feels terrible, waving her hands. “I would love to take you to meet the Queen! She is, ah,  _ very sociable _ , so I am sure she would love to meet you too.”

Kamukura can hear the cries from even where he is at and turns his head, heart stopping as he listens. He would recognize Tsumiki’s wailing anywhere. The King’s sharp ears try to pick up any sign of Komaeda’s voice to no avail. He stops running his fingers through his hair idly and turns to look at the door, holding his breath and counting the seconds that go by. Ruby eyes are focused on the knob and he doesn’t realize that he is praying in his consciousness. He closes them and focuses his thoughts.

_ Please, my love, return to me. _

Tsumiki stands up, her hands in front of her face defensively, and nods, still whimpering. "Th-Thank you!" She sniffs and blinks the tears from her eyes, glancing at Komaeda, "I w-will see you later, alright?"

Komaeda nods in response and sends a half-apologetic, half-thankful smile at Nanami. "Take your time. It will be good for me to get more well acquainted with the King since our trade deal. Have fun, Tsumiki, please?" He bows to her slightly, and, at her shaky nod, starts on his way to the room down the hall, squaring his shoulders and turning the handle.

Kamukura tenses. He... actually hadn’t expected anyone so quick. His heart stops as he opts to look away, feigning disinterest in case it were anybody  _ but _ whom he was expecting, resting his chin in his hand. He couldn’t hide his shallow breath and closed his eyes, hoping for the best case scenario.

Walking into the room, laying eyes on Kamukura, and seeing the way the soft sunlight from the small windows bounce off his unruly, beautiful hair is-- _ by far _ \--the best feeling Komaeda has ever felt. He audibly lets out a sigh of relief. Weeks of stress and torment all let go in one, simple moment. He steels himself until the door is shut behind him, and once it is closed he leans against the heavy wood, his heart racing. 

"Hello," He nearly whispers, a disbelieving smile gracing his expression. It feels surreal, seeing him again. Were it not for all of the evidence he has of the other man's existence, he would be sure everything about Kamukura was a dream. He stays flat against the door, not exactly trusting his legs to work properly if he were to move them. Or, perhaps, that any movement would break the spell of the dream he was surely in.

Upon the sound of the breathy voice behind him, Kamukura felt himself melt into his chair out of relief and love. He turned his head to look back at the door, eyes slowly taking in the sight of the other man from head to toe. He was a tall drink of water and the King was dehydrated. He looked incredibly handsome in his celebratory regalia, still white on every garment, and Kamukura stood. 

His ebony hair was smooth as it fell down his back when he moved; he himself wore a large ermine cloak that draped over his shoulders and dusted along the floor by the heels of his shoes. His typical jacket had been traded for a jacket that was much more mature; it buttoned three-quarters across his chest and golden tassels fell down the front. A diagonal red stripe strapped across the length of his torso and a golden ribbon belt hugged his waist. He had boots that rose up to his knees, giving him a bit of extra height, and an expensive, velvet crown sat atop the cascade of black hair; it was covered in sparkling jewels and its shape was held together by pure gold. It made his eyes pop and he smiled coyly at his White Prince, hand on his hip just above where a sheathed rapier rested. 

“Hello, stranger,” his deep voice was smooth as silk, “you look lovely.”

Komaeda’s mouth goes dry at the sight of the Prince— _ King _ . His King. He looks the part entirely, wearing overdone royal garb across his finely tailored suit. Komaeda rakes his eyes across him, feeling nearly dizzy with the overwhelming emotions he is feeling. Relief, love, lust... it is all so much and he leans heavily against the door for a moment longer, getting his bearings before stepping into the room completely. At his sides, his hands tremble. Whether it be from anticipation, anxiety, or something entirely different he does not know, but he stops before Kamukura, staring at him. He wants to touch him.  _ Craves _ it like a drug. Still, the fear of being walked in on outweighs his desires. 

"My King," he mumbles, wetting his lips slightly before continuing, "I do not believe I have ever seen a more wonderful sight." His eyes crinkle at the corners, "How fitting of an attire for  _ our _ wedding day." A thrill courses through him as he says the words, and he brings his hand to his chest, wiggling his fingers as the ring glints in the sunlight.

Kamukura swallows, glancing down at the ring on Komaeda’s finger and feeling pride swell in his chest. Today truly  _ was _ the day. He lifted his left hand up off of his hip to hold it so his partner could see—sure enough, the wedding band that had belonged to Komaeda’s father was on his finger. The King chuckled lightly.

“The wretched woman did not even realize that this is not the same ring I am supposed to be wearing.” He reached out cautiously, caressing the porcelain cheek of the Prince. In these boots, he was about an inch taller than him, and it was somewhat amusing.

“Although... this ring is the one I  _ should _ be wearing, and therefore I am.” He swiped the pad of his thumb across Komaeda’s bottom lip with a cheeky grin, leaning in for a kiss. “I cannot wait to take you as my husband, my angel.”

"Soon, love." Komaeda melts into the kiss, his skin alight with every touch of fire, " _ My _ king. We may not hold our titles in just a short while, but in my heart, you rule my entire world. I am yours forever." He deepens the kiss, parting his lips and quickly swiping his tongue before remembering where they are. He pulls away, cheeks burning, "I wish to kiss you without fear. Soon, I know, we may... but... perhaps in our next life we may, for I am sure we shall meet again." 

He glances to the door with a chuckle, placing his hand overtop Kamukura's, "I almost feel bad for my bride. She is kind, albeit a strong annoyance to me. Her husband can never love her as she deserves to be loved. Perhaps my leave will be a blessing to her."

Anything Komaeda ever says slips off of his tongue like velvet and Kamukura absolutely adores him. He could say anything he wanted in the pretty voice of his and the King would melt at his feet. Upon the feeling of his tongue on his lips, he inhales sharply, pulling away quickly in fear that if he didn’t he would have gotten carried away. His cheeks flush and he chuckles a bit, intertwining their fingers. “I will find my way to you no matter what life we are living. We are magnets; you are the north to my south, quite literally in this life’s case.”

His thumb mindlessly caresses the side of Komaeda’s index as he speaks; the reality that he is currently hiding away at his own wedding fizzles away and he finds himself entranced by the beauty of the other man. He listens intently, humming once Komaeda is finished. 

“Tsumiki  _ is _ very kind; I remember her as such. I agree, it is indeed a shame, but I wonder if your leave will perhaps bring her true love upon her when they otherwise might not have met?” A small smile graces his lips. “Fate has a funny way of working like that.”

"I do hope so. She deserves much better than she has been dealt. It nearly pains me to leave her, but merely out of fear that she will be mistreated by someone else." He pauses and shakes his head, "Poor girl. But I must look at the positives..."

He leans forward, bringing his mouth to Kamukura's ear, "When do we leave, my King? Say the word and I will run with you." He whispers, breath ghosting across the Dark King's skin. "My beautiful king, I have seen you in moonlight and the break of dawn. In roses and blood and the eyes of the stable cat." His lips brush Kamukura's ear, "I am ready to run. I have never been more prepared for something in my entire life."

Kamukura’s hand instinctively moves to hold Komaeda by the hip, the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing on end at the feeling of warm breath on his skin. His cold eyes are trained on the door, honed into any sign of an unwelcome body on the other side, listening in. He tilts his head into Komaeda’s, turning his own so he can press his lips against a soft temple, raking his other hand through thick white hair.

“My White Prince, although I wish to run right now, we must wait until it is dark.” He closes his eyes, reveling in the feeling of his love finally in his arms again. “If we were to go now, people would surely notice. If we wait until the late evening amidst the celebrations, we will be able to slip away; we will take my horse, as she is black as pitch, and cloaked we will steal away like thieves in the night and be gone hours before anyone truly realizes.”

Komaeda grins, pressing his face into Kamukura's neck, "So soon... freedom so tantalizingly close. I will wait, but it will be unbearable." He pulls back once more, holding Kamukura at arms’ length and giving him a once over, "Might I say, you look beautiful. Of course, you always do... but you have a glow to you today. In your eyes, I mean. Perhaps you feel as alive as I do? It is as if the clouds have finally parted, isn't it?" He drops his arms, already missing the warmth of the other but knowing that they must avoid suspicion. 

The expression that befalls the Dark King’s face is a soft one as he feels himself grow warm at the compliments. His cheeks tint red and he falls even deeper in love with his Prince; it is killing him that he cannot reach out and hold him longer.  _ Soon. We will be free to love each other soon. _

“Those words mean tenfold when coming from such a beautiful man as you.” Kamukura folds his hands in front of him, the weight of the ermine cloak on his shoulders keeping him grounded. “I have seen you in so many beautiful things around me. You have been in the clouds and the doves’ wings and the white sunlight that shines through the slits in the curtains. There has not been a night where you haven’t graced my dreams. I am ecstatic to have you by my side again;  _ that _ is the light that you see within my eyes.”

"Must I go mingle? I think I would prefer to be poisoned than interact with more nobility. My kingdom of snow is so isolated, this is far more excitement than I've had in ages." Komaeda grimaces harshly at the door, listening to the faint sounds of chatter and celebration. "Ugh.  _ People _ . Why must they be so noisy?"

Kamukura listens, tilting his head. His long black hair swings a bit as it falls off of his shoulders. “A majority of it likely originates from Enoshima’s guests. She is especially loud herself, so I would imagine that her nobles are not far off.” Kamukura chuckles affectionately. “As much as you would detest it, I do believe it would be good for you to mingle. I will follow shortly after you; the less suspicion we have upon ourselves, the better.”

A childish whine escapes Komaeda, so unlike the usually proper Prince. He crosses his arms and glares at the door as if it has committed some sort of personal crime against him. 

"...Fine, but I only do so because I love you. I do so  _ hate _ loud noises, and I feel like Enoshima will be quite the enemy toward me." He throws one last angry glance toward the door before looking back to Kamukura, expression softening. "See you in a few hours?"

“She is an absolute scourge, I will warn you.” The other man winks coolly, hands in his pockets. “See you in a few hours, my dear Prince.” He went back to the seat he had been in, going back to looking out the window as if he hadn’t had a visitor at all. He closed his eyes, listening for the door to shut behind him.

Komaeda’s cheeks flare at the wink and as he shuts the door he quickly tries to school his expression, doing some deep breathing to calm his racing heart. Casual. Calm.  _ Collected _ . He squares his shoulders and makes his way back down the hallway, immediately flinching slightly at the wave of noise that greets him. He scans the crowd for Tsumiki, hoping desperately for a familiar face.

Nanami had been obedient, taking Tsumiki right to Enoshima as soon as the Queen was free, and stood close by; she was clearly trying to hide an annoyed expression. Enoshima had Tsumiki’s hands and was  _ talking _ and  _ talking _ and  _ talking _ and wouldn’t allow the meek Princess to get a word of her own in. The nasal voice was loud overtop the crowd but nobody else seemed to mind her. 

She too wore an ermine cloak, although hers was much less extravagant, only draped behind her back. Her dress was thick and poofy and had intricate little details sewn into its skirt; her bodice was tight and she had so many diamond necklaces on it looked as if water was dripping down the peachy skin near her collarbones. Most notable was the long strawberry-blonde hair that had been worked into a bun toward the back of her head, the rest falling down her back. She also wore a crown similar to Kamukura’s—unlike his distaste, Enoshima  _ adored _ hers.

“Yeah! So like.” Enoshima shrugged, messing with the silk seam of her cloak. Her nails were long and painted the same blood-red that her lips were. She was admittedly gorgeous. “Just a little about me. I’m excited to be here, though. I’ve always heard  _ soooooo _ much about this kingdom but never had much business here; how about you?”

Komaeda finally spots Tsumiki beside the Queen. Enoshima isn't difficult to spot, what with her massive hair and gown. (Not to mention her gargantuan ego.) It practically filled the room with a suffocating energy, everyone crowding around to get a word in with her. Tsumiki looks like a shivering leaf beside her, and Komaeda is honestly quite impressed that she hasn't run away sobbing yet. He walks up beside her, bowing quickly to the Queen as Tsumiki speaks.

"M-Me? Oh, dear, th-this is my first time coming here. I-It's quite beautiful though! M-Me and m-my f-f-fiancé live in th-the Northern kingdoms!" She squeaks out, immediately noticing Komaeda and looping her arm in his. 

He smiles at her, hoping it doesn't come across strained, "It is a pleasure, Your Highness. Prince Komaeda, at your service. My immense congratulations on the wedding, and may your kingdom reign forever." The words slip off his tongue like silk. He always knows what to say to people like this: flattery will do so much so easily. It has worked on everyone... except Kamukura, naturally. Fake smiles and bows and hollow compliments fall to deaf ears when it comes to the Dark Prince.

Enoshima’s attention quickly shifts from one royal to the other—she is not mean to Tsumiki, but she finds her far too timid for her liking. Thankfully she had an excuse to look at Komaeda, smiling politely as he introduced himself. Her eyes held a sparkle within them as she looked him up and down, brows furrowed in thought so quickly that it was hardly noticeable; that was gone as swiftly as it appeared and she acted no differently than she had with Tsumiki, clapping quietly.

“Pleasure to meet you! Thanks for the kind words; it means a lot.” She lifted her chin with a smile, looking between Komaeda and Tsumiki. Nanami still stood nearby, beginning to grow distracted by the demands of the nobles around her. “You’re awfully pretty for a guy. What a catch, huh?” She playfully stuck her tongue out at Tsumiki.

Komaeda blinks rapidly, unsure how to take that. Tsumiki seems about the same, stuttering were way into a sentence, "A-Ah, uhm, y-yes! I-I a-am quite l-lucky to have s-such a handsome h-husband!" Her voice has gone up an octave and her stutter gets worse. 

Choosing to take pity on her, Komaeda steps in, bowing slightly once more and pretending his ears aren't burning, "Thank you, Your Highness. You are very kind, but I am far from it. Certainly, I am nothing but a speck of dirt next to your glory. Nor my bride-to-be's beauty." He straightens and smiles with closed lips, gritting his teeth behind it.

This seemed to absolutely stroke Enoshima’s ego; she grinned, laughing through her teeth.

“You’re too kind! Seriously, how sweet you are.” She makes no effort to correct or rebuttal him. Her speech is anything but formal; she has no need for it to be as such when she already has as much power she could ask for. She flips her hair a bit, moving her hands to her hips and scanning the crowd behind them, feigning interest in their conversation. “So... what’s your kingdom like? Where are you from?” She does not seem to be bothered by the fact that Tsumiki has just explained this, searching for any sign of long black hair.

Komaeda and Tsumiki exchange a quick glance, frowning. 

"Ah," says the Prince, "Our kingdoms are Northern. As the summer ends we have been getting slight dustings of snow... we are wealthy in the mining industry, since the cold makes it difficult to farm consistently." Tsumiki gives a small noise of affirmation, nodding and hugging Komaeda closer. She seems just as afraid as he feels deep inside, he is just much better at hiding his distaste. Rather... he chooses to be bold, giving a strained smile, "Are we distracting you, your Highness? We may dismiss ourselves, if that is what you desire." Polite, but implying. Just his style.

Enoshima had hummed at Komaeda’s response, going to say something undeniably short and uninterested as she was searching, but she stopped at his second comment. Her eyes flash again but this time she smiles with closed lips.

“No, no, you’re totally fine. There’s just a lot going on, y’know? Lots of guests, lots of people to see...” Enoshima finally catches sight of the King, talking with a few of his own guests on the far side of the room; she breaks out into a grin and moves to approach him, but seems to remember she is in a conversation. The Queen looks to them apologetically (if apologies were insincere) and folds her hands in front of her.

“Pardon me—if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go bother my husband now. He’s been MIA most of this time and he’s finally out; I want to see his pretty face.” She pokes her tongue out playfully again, giving a wag of her fingers. “Go have fun! Go talk to people, make connections, stuff like that. I’ll talk to you guys later.” With that, she left them behind, beelining for Kamukura.

The King hadn’t seen her coming, so he flinched a bit when she threw her arms around him, laughing loudly over the rest of the ballroom. Enoshima did not seem to care that he was in conversation and reached up to hold his chin, kissing him right on the lips. When they separated, the King had red lipstick left behind on the corner of his mouth and she laughed again, opting to leave it there as a symbol of possession if anything else. He did not seem to be bothered, but it was only for the sake of saving face; he knew he had to hide his disgust because not only would his advisors kill him, but he did not want rumors to bubble up that he had interest in someone else. He had to protect Komaeda—this was why he did not pull away when the Queen hugged his waist, pulling him close as she rested her head against his arm and listened as Kamukura’s guest began to speak again.

Nanami was able to free herself before any more guests could pester her, moving to the far more polite pair; perhaps in another life, she would have even been allowed to call them her ‘friends’. “The Queen is very bold and easily distracted...” She went to apologize but knew she would be deeply scolded if she implied anything negative of her monarch, so she pursed her lips and glanced away instead.

Ignoring the stab of sudden jealous, murderous rage that courses through him at the scene, Komaeda gives a pleasant smile, "Hm. Yes, I suppose she can afford to do so with her status. What a life she must live." He huffs and looks at Tsumiki, who is still trembling and staring after Enoshima, "My Princess? Are you alright?"

Tsumiki lets out a small yelp and nods far too enthusiastically, "Y-YES! S-Sorry I am just a bit, uh... th-thirsty! I'll b-be back sh-shortly!" With that she bows and hurries off into the crowd, supposedly to get a drink despite the many servants wandering around. 

Komaeda looks back to Nanami and his smile drops a bit, showing his utter exhaustion. Talking to people is easy. It's all patterns and calculations and procedure, but that doesn't make it any less draining. The collar of his coat is too itchy, the jingling of the regalia grating against his ears just like the dozens upon dozens of people in the room. His face is flushed and, honestly, he just wants to leave. 

Nanami frowns as she watches Tsumiki leave, wishing to follow after her to make sure she was alright but not wanting to suffocate her or seem like she was obligated to stay at her side. She feels terrible, offering a similarly-tired smile back at the Prince, hands folded in front of her. “I understand,” she mouths before glancing around the room. Her voice returns. “I will be close by. If you need me, do not hesitate to call for me.” Despite his constant insistence not to bow to him, she does so anyway (as they had an audience), and moves to find something to do among the sea of royals that she has never quite enjoyed being around.

_ Mingle. Avoid suspicion,  _ Komaeda’s subconscious reminds him, so he does. With one last tired glance to Nanami, he turns and begins speaking to the various Monarchs around, introducing himself with ease. Laugh here. Jest there. Nod at that. It's procedure... and it is all so  _ fake _ that it makes his teeth hurt. But he continues, keeping Kamukura in his peripheral as a calming reminder of why.

Kamukura is mentally exhausted as well, with another guest behind him any direction he turns. He can barely get a moment to breathe, and even if he does, Enoshima manages to glue herself to his side. At one point he is able to catch Komaeda’s eye from across the room, winking at him yet again. The lipstick on his mouth has dried but is still visible, but he does not seem to remember that it is there.

Hours pass, and at some point, Komaeda has lost count of how many bland introductions he has heard. Lighthearted jokes and stories of utterly boring ‘adventures’ fly past him. He cannot for the life of him remember a single person individually, which may be horrible of him, but... in just a short while, it won't matter any more. 

Kamukura's wink is one saving grace. It leaves him flustered and reminds him of  _ why _ he must do this. Why he has to be here, mingling with people who insist upon commenting on his feminine appearance, or trade routes, or the price of lumber from the West. He feels that, if he stays for another moment he will see his reflection in his wine glass start to smile at his suffering. 

He excuses himself from the group he is in, earning a few polite nods while others ignore him completely, and makes his way to the door. It is impolite to leave, but stepping out into the gardens for a moment couldn't hurt. The massive ballroom has become utterly  _ suffocating _ , and if the sweat of his palms is anything to indicate, he may be having a bit of an episode. His illness tends to cause bouts of fever and anxiety, as well as mood shifts; perhaps it is best to excuse himself for the time being.

He passes Nanami, hardly even giving her a glance in his haze, and opens the door to the hallway. He has no idea how to get to the gardens, but he decides to trust his odd friendship with luck, turning down three hallways before finding a random door and stepping through. With no bench in sight, he leans against the brick wall, breathing rough. Dusk is approaching, the sky bathed in oranges and pinks, and the sight does wonders for keeping him grounded.

Nanami has to stop dead in her tracks to prevent Komaeda from walking directly into her; she watches him hurry out with quickened, crooked steps and desperately wants to follow, but she is currently in the middle of refilling glasses and providing refreshments and is bound to the errand. She curses at herself for being bound the way she was—she had been born into this job, yet the last month or so had created a foreign feeling that sat low in her stomach and ate at her from the inside out. Something didn’t sit right anymore. She didn’t like that she was limited in what she could do—such as what she could say, touch, or try—and she didn’t like the hierarchies that were becoming more and more apparent to her now that her rose-colored glasses had been taken off. It wasn’t fair that Kamukura and Komaeda had to run away in order to be happy and it wasn’t fair that marriages had to be forced in the first place and it wasn’t  _ fair _ that humans could be seen as below other humans, achillean or servants or not. All Nanami could do was puff her cheeks in concern, moving on with her errands and praying Komaeda would be alright.

Kamukura, in all of his distractions, hadn’t even noticed Komaeda had stepped out; he had been purposely avoiding searching for him to keep their affair as hidden as possible. 

There had been the loud, echoing clicks of heels down the empty hallway that the gardens were connected to, and the heavy door swung open near-effortlessly. The white gown of Enoshima was at risk of getting dirty out here, but she did not seem to care, closing the door behind her and drinking in the sight of the hyperventilating man against the wall. Rather than comfort him, she smiled crookedly, tilting her head with her hands on her hips. The deep blue of her eyes were poison seas, full of formalin and arsenic and prepared to drown anyone that dared to cross them or the woman behind them.

“Who exactly,” she spat every word, full red lips drawn tight, “do you think you’re fooling?”

Komaeda startles, having been too caught up in trying to calm down to even have acknowledged the opening of the door. Whipping around, he takes in the woman before him, all flowing fabric and sparkly, expensive jewels. Only moments ago, he had been on his way to relaxing, but now, staring at the Queen in bewilderment, his heart rate picks back up and he suddenly gets the urge to sprint back to the comfort of his lonely kingdom and never set foot outside again.

Her words catch up to him and he blinks, "I-I beg your pardon, Your Highness?" He stutters, attempting to catch his breath. She could not  _ possibly _ mean that she knows, does she? The two men had been as subtle as can be... at least, so Komaeda had thought. Their biggest fear had been drawing suspicion from the Queen, and now that fear is coming alive before his very eyes. Like a snake raising up for the strike, teeth bared with blood-red venom. He attempts to recover, a small sheepish smile blooming on his face as he gives a small bow. "My apologies for leaving so soon, Queen Enoshima. I have a bit of an illness at the moment, it has greatly impeded my sinuses, you see."

Enoshima just hums, turning her eyes to slits. "Don't play dumb; you know exactly what I'm talking about." The startled expression on his face only confirmed what she already knew, and she steps closer to him, the breeze outside picking up and catching her hair; it flowed largely behind her and her gown billowed beneath her. She wanted nothing more than to lift her foot and crush the frail man beneath her heel. She held herself back though, keeping her jaw hard and gaze sharp.

_ Don't play dumb _ she says, as if he has a death wish. He smiles politely, tilting his head innocently, "My liege, I am afraid I haven't the clue of what you are referring to. Could you be more specific?" He steps off the wall entirely, moving closer to her. The white of her dress and the white of his attire make for quite the bright spectacle, he is sure. Anyone watching would think it were two doves fighting for territory. Perhaps, in a way, it is. He may not be strong in body, but he can be quick witted. He steps even closer to her. 

"Accusing me of something on your wedding day? Could that be considered bad luck?" He still feels the effects of his episode buzzing in his mind, the tendrils of fog making his thoughts jumbled and convoluted. If he's being honest, he just wants a nap.

"Bad luck, my ass--it's not an accusation; this is pure fact." Enoshima does not back off, tilting her chin up to look at him. Her long eyelashes flit up and down as she sizes him up; the fact that she is riling him up is making her heart beat with excitement against her ribs. Now that he had bitten her line, she would begin to lightly tug on him, the hook pierced within his cheek. Her stone expression faded away and she smiled up at him, tapping her heel against the garden stone. "The closet you're hiding in's got glass doors, baby doll! Really a shame you never came to realize that yourself."

Fear is quite the emotion. Komaeda has known it well in his time. Misfortune after misfortune, time and time again he finds himself greeted by death, by pain and sorrow. Standing before him, he sees it again. This is not a woman; she is hardly a Queen--rather, she is a witch. One who casts despair upon everyone near her. She goes against everything Komaeda stands for in life, blocking his sunlight with thunderous clouds that shake the foundations of his home. Here, in the garden, where serene evening light cascades from the heavens and birds chirp peacefully from the safety of trees... he has never felt more terrified. He knows he must defend himself. He has to for the sake of himself, his kingdom, and most importantly,  _ Kamukura _ . 

He may be taller than her, but he feels small in her presence. Like an ant to be crushed. "How...?" he finds himself asking, and wishing he hadn't. She  _ must _ be a witch, for she has casted a spell on him to curse his tongue. Lying is nearly impossible around her, he wants to crawl to her shoes and bow. It makes his skin crawl.  _ How does she know? How did she figure it out? _

Komaeda feels dizzy again and, despite him still meeting her gaze, a small light fades within his eyes. That spark of hope for their evening disappearance into the night. For a nice countryside farm with his love. For happiness. It's crumbling around him, and he grits his teeth against a burning behind his face.

Watching him crumble beneath her gaze was  _ delicious _ . Enoshima let out a giggle—it sounded so innocent and becoming, yet the pure  _ venom _ behind it could make the toughest of men shiver. 

“Oh come on, really? You’re clearly gay. You look the part for sure.” She makes a point of looking him over again, curling her nose at his outfit. “You’re a walking example, pretty boy. Anybody could see that.”

She could practically feel Komaeda’s heart in her palm, pulsing and hammering beneath her fingers. It was tempting to squeeze her fist and feel it rupture beneath her hand—his warm blood spilling down her arm and staining her white gown red—but she always preferred to toy with her prey as if it were a petty game of cat and mouse. 

Enoshima tucks her tongue in her cheek, inspecting her long, crimson nails. “Not only are you almost as pretty as me, but Kamukura’s servants talk amongst themselves.” She flicks her gaze back up at him, eyes half-lidded in an unidentifiable emotion. Her voice has changed; it is now faux-posh, as if she were mocking their guests inside. “I find it quite interesting that the man famous for his stoic, mysterious personality just suddenly  _ up and changed _ one day. Pinpointing the change, it can be rooted back to a visit from a certain White Prince from the North.” Her jaw hardens again and her voice begins to raise. “The guards talk too. That’s just—a little— _ crazy _ that negotiations were to be made overnight? In his own quarters?” She lets out a harsh laugh.

Komaeda wants to cry, he wants to scream and fight and wrap his hands around her neck, squeezing until she's quiet. He thinks that, even in death, she would find a way to be obnoxious, and he can't risk the trouble he would get in from it. Trapped... that's what he is. Like a caged animal and he doesn't know where the door is. His hands shake, and he grips the sides of his pant legs. 

He takes a breath, mentally, he already knows there is one good way out of this that doesn't end in disaster. If he cannot save himself, perhaps he can save Kamukura.

"You are correct," he affirms, voice quiet. Maybe his death will be quick when it comes, and, one day, he may find Kamukura in another life. One where things work out for the both of them. He hardens his gaze at Enoshima. "But you are also wrong. I tried to seduce the King, but he ignored my advances. In fact, I think I merely made him uncomfortable. His change in behavior is one of discomfort and hatred. He has avoided speaking with me this entire day, haven't you noticed?" It hurts. It hurts to say like arrows in his chest. "My fiancée, Tsumiki, suspects nothing, and I will go on to marry her, return to our kingdom, and never travel South again, if that is your wish." It's a sad attempt, he knows. A weak negotiation for a crime that normally would mean execution. If he must go down, at least he was semi-honest. It may earn him some good fortune in his next life.

Enoshima makes a noise, making note of how tightly he gripped his pants. A fly in her web.

“I don’t know necessarily if I believe you,” she snivels, “but if I think about you fucking my husband any longer, I might have an aneurism.” Enoshima looks out to the gardens around them; without their confrontation, it would have been a beautiful twilight with the hedgerows and flower bushes blowing gently in the breeze. However, with the tension that the air held, the roses were more so their thorns and the poison plants overgrew and suffocated their harmless equivalents. 

The Queen realizes something and looks back down to where Komaeda is white-knuckled against his slacks. Her expression floods with pure, unfiltered rage, and she is quick to grab at his left hand with her own, nearly crushing his fragile fingers in her grip. She adjusts them so their fingers intertwine, and even with her steel grasp on his hand, she is trembling, furious. Against the setting sun, it is clear as day—the wedding ring on his finger is the matching ring to the one on hers, the rubies glinting gorgeously. Their beauty has been dulled now, and the Queen grips him harder.

“So not only are you fucking  _ gay _ , but you lied right to my face.” She grits her teeth, wrenching her hand back to pull at his arm. “ _ I could have you executed before the night is even over. _ ”

Komaeda’s heart rate picks up and tears spring into his eyes. His worst fears have been brought to life, every misfortune before now seeming minuscule in comparison to the current moment. She pulls him forward by their joined hands and her harsh touch leaves fire on his skin, long beautiful nails so piercing. For a woman with curves and soft features, she is anything but. She is harsh, angular and sharp. Like knives. He fights against her grip weakly, the tears in his eyes growing, 

" _ N-No! _ No, please!" He begs, usual calm demeanor leaving completely. " _ Please, _ god, you can hurt me just--don't hurt him. Please. I'll do anything! Oh, please,  _ please _ ..." The display is so unlike Komaeda, the Prince's proper facade slipping as his desperation grows. The more he pulls back, the harder her iron gripped nails dig into his hand. Even if he wanted to run, her gaze keeps him in place. She is so, so beautiful. So chillingly warm. Like frostbite. The woman is a snowstorm fit to starve a village, beautiful in scenery amongst the suffering in its wake.

His pleading falls on near-deaf ears; it takes all of her strength to not snap him in half right there. Execution sounds nice and would surely be an eventful way to end her wedding night; her sister wouldn’t be able to believe it. Enoshima forces herself to let go of him, taking a few steps back to sort her thoughts. If she were to execute Komaeda, she would have to execute Kamukura as well, and as revolting as it was to think about him kissing another man, she was truly attracted to his looks and didn’t want to lose waking up to that every morning. Her brows furrowed as she looked at her nails again; she had scraped him at one point, because blood lingered underneath the keratin. It wasn’t enough.

“I don’t know  _ how _ you brought yourself to get involved with him, but why would you ever want to?” Enoshima’s gown had gotten slightly muddy in a spot close to the ground, but she couldn’t even bring herself to care. “Have you not heard the rumors?”

He stumbles back, shivering and huddled into himself, "The rumors? Of his lack of humanity? That he is a changeling?" He scoffs, "Only children would believe such fantasies." He is already so far into his fate, he finds he cannot stop his tongue from spitting venom, "He is  _ kind _ . Unlike your  _ unsightly _ hand, Enoshima. You know nothing of true love, and you never will..."

The Queen laughs harshly, grabbing at her skirt. “Yeah, maybe dumb shit like  _ that _ , but there’s truth behind it. When you’re as powerful as I am, you can learn anything about  _ anyone _ , whenever you want.” Enoshima snorts, gritting her teeth. “And maybe I won’t. That’s fuckin’ fine with me, baby. I don’t need love—I need fuckin’  _ power _ .”

Her hands were planted on her hips once more, only after she adjusted her crown to prevent it from falling off of her head. She did not break eye contact once, keeping her gaze steady on the Prince. “Don’t you think it’s  _ weird _ that he just kind of up-and-appeared? You don’t think it’s  _ strange _ that nobody will talk about who ruled before him? That it’s only been 23 years but people that are triple that in age won’t ever mention anything about the previous monarchs?”

He frowns. It  _ is _ odd, but he never thought to pry. To him, it is Kamukura's business alone. He has done well for his kingdom; he rules justly and takes care of his citizens. The economy is flourishing... so what is the issue? He is tempted to not ask, to say he is uninterested and leave, but the mixture of Enoshima's cool glare and his simmering curiosity almost force his hand. 

"...It is... odd. I will admit that, but I thought it rude to ask." Still curled in against himself protectively, he looks around at the last rays of sunlight hitting the garden. It will be dark soon. His stomach churns. "Tell me."

The cold woman runs a hand through her strawberry-blonde hair, the beautiful cascade growing tangled from the wind. Her gaze is strong and she focuses on Komaeda, watching him intensely with her deep-blue poison eyes.

“The previous monarchs were good, respectable people. They liked their subjects and the subjects liked them, y’know? They were  _ adored _ . Both were beautiful on the inside and out; the Queen had long brown hair that fell down her back and the King had a smile that was contagious. So when they announced they were expecting, naturally, the kingdom went fuckin’  _ nuts _ . Like absolutely apeshit.” Enoshima shrugged. “As you do, I guess. So the time rolls around, the Queen has her baby, and they get one look at him and are fuckin’ paralyzed with fear.

“The boy was born with hair blacker than pitch. They could look past that, of course, because what if it would change over time, right? But when he opened his eyes, rather than the dull gray all babies are born with, his eyes were bright red and seared right through both of them, seeing right through to the deepest depths of their souls.” The Queen looked at the oak door close by as if she could see through it and past all of the winding hallways to find the man in question. “They were horrified and immediately felt that the gods had punished them for their sins. They thought their baby was replaced by a demon while he was still in the womb and that because of their status as monarchs, they were being defined by the gods as selfish, greedy, miserable people. Not wishing to be condemned, they decided to flee their kingdom entirely, transferring all of the power to the demon child and used their last order as monarchs to ensure that he would be raised within the castle by the servants. They requested that any traces of them were to be erased entirely and that they would never be spoken of again. Rather than name the kid what they were going to, they allowed the servants to name him instead, who named him after the man that had established the kingdom centuries ago.” 

She tried to wipe the blood on her nails on her dress, not caring that it was white; it didn’t come off, having dried. “Of course, the fact that he grew up not feeling emotion only solidified their theory, and the servants truly began to believe that he was a demon as well.” Enoshima grinned slyly. “He isn’t actually emotionless; he’s got a condition. It’s called alexithymia. He just struggles with how to approach them and how to express them. But the whole ‘red eyes, black hair’ thing still doesn’t line up.”

The Queen tucked her hair behind her ear, growing irritated at how it kept blowing in her face. “So, basically, in short? The man you’re so  _ deeeesperately _ in love with is not who he thinks he is—the servants were never to tell him. He is supposed to be a man named Hajime Hinata with pretty brown hair like his parents and an ability to feel. He’s supposed to be  _ sooooo _ much more charismatic and charming.” The grass around them was beginning to dew and the crickets were starting to chirp. “He’s a fucking  _ curse _ . He’s not supposed to be here. He’s not even a real man—he’s clearly borderline supernatural, and even if he wasn’t, his name doesn’t even belong to him. He’s a fucking  _ fake _ .” In finality, she tilts her head, hands on her hips as she looks the fragile Prince over. “Why would you subject yourself to that? Why would you willingly want to spend the rest of your days with a  _ demon? _ ”

It doesn't sit right. Komaeda wishes he hadn't asked. It feels wrong, wrong,  _ wrong _ . Kamukura having a condition isn't the issue. Komaeda is ill himself, his brain deteriorating day by day until he loses himself entirely. But... Kamukura's parents disowned him? They  _ left? _ Perhaps, if they had stayed, he would have been different, more personal and kind toward others. A poor upbringing can do a lot to a person... and it is not as though Kamukura  _ knew _ any of this. 

So why does he feel so betrayed? Perhaps it is the fact that Kamukura was meant to be someone else. Someone average, who Komaeda could never have fallen in love with. Perhaps they would never have met, and instead Komaeda would wither away in an unhappy marriage in the snow, shivering in a loveless castle nestled within a forest of white. It is the fate he deserves, that much he knows. 

"Why would I spend the rest of my days with him?" He echoes, voice weak and broken, "Because he has offered me more hope in life than anything I have encountered. Call me selfish for wanting it all you would like, Your Highness... but demon or not, he is far, far more human than you or any other bland, monotonous  _ drone _ in there!" His hands clenched tightly at his sides, tears turning hot as they spill, "He cannot help his fate! It is people like  _ you _ who  _ made _ him this way!"

Enoshima lets out a pitied hum, yet judging by the grin on her face, it is not actual pity at all. “People like  _ me? _ ” She clicks her tongue. “Oh, baby doll, I haven’t done anything. I had only recently met him before getting engaged to him. If you wanna blame anyone, blame his parents.” She lets out a laugh, suddenly much more relaxed than she had been in the last few minutes. “I don’t know why you’re even wasting your breath anyway; you’re just gonna forget everything in six months, right?” She sticks her tongue out again, and rather than it’s original playfulness, it is quite clear that it is in mockery now. “Just close your eyes and take a long nap, Komaeda; this will all be in the past before you know it!”

"I won't forget him. How could I?" His voice grows desperate again, "You know just as much as I do how captivating he is. He is perfect in every sense of the word. I shall carry thoughts of him to my grave." The line of his shoulders slump, realizing now that that will truly be the case. The spark in him has gone out entirely. He feels sick. Wretched. Ugly. A small laugh escapes him and he clutches his arms, the last ray of sunlight disappearing over the horizon, blanketing the world in pale blue. "I suppose that I must now, hm? That is my fate? Alone forever, hoping for something that will never come? How unfortunate, if unsurprising. I suspected this... but it still hurts. I am unsure why, considering the years I spent planning for this. Odd, isn't it? What despair will do to a man?" He laughs again, hysterical as his grip turns iron over his arms.

The wicked woman only watches him break down, arms crossed across her chest as she catches sight of the tears rolling down his cheeks as he laughs. They glitter against his jawline before falling entirely; his pain and suffering is  _ thrilling _ and she wants nothing more than to stand here and watch him forever. Such a polite and charming man reduced to a mess of tears and intrusive thoughts. She was truthfully impressed with herself at how quickly she had managed to break him—she had expected it to take longer.

Enoshima licked her lips, fixing her crown again. “At least it’s not  _ entirely _ unexpected then.” She is grounded in her stance, hands on her hips once more. “I’ll make a deal with you. I won’t snitch on you for liking dick if you get out of here and never show your face in this kingdom again. I’ll just forget about it. But if I ever hear of you trying to come around here or around Kamukura again, I’ll have your fuckin’ head on a stick within the hour.” She swallowed, taking in the bright white outfit of his that now appeared a slight blue from the lack of sunlight. There was something about breaking powerful men down that made her power trip even harder. “You understand?”

Komaeda nods, his entire body feeling like ice. He feels... dead. As if he just sold his entire soul to the woman before him. She claims that Kamukura is a demon, when in fact, it seems far more likely it is her. He can't live with this, he realizes, beginning to have difficulty breathing once more as his hands raise up to grip firmly at his scalp. There is no possible way he can continue after knowing what he has lost. His sickly smile returns and he looks at her, eyes dazed.

"Hm, actually, I've changed my mind. No."

Her expression falters, brow furrowing and stance grown defensive. “What?”

"Enoshima, I have lived a very short life," he says, voice raspy, "I have had everything dear to me taken away. My family, friends... It has brought me so much pain. In fact!" He steps forward, "So much pain that I am nearly numb to it! I suspected I would die alone, but the hope of my love with Kamukura is far too much for me to ignore for the rest of my pitiful life." He tilts his head, whispering, "You have pointed your bow at a man who already holds the arrow, Your Highness. I have nothing left to lose. If I shall die, it will be proud and filled with beautiful hope."

The woman is clearly confused, but the anger boiling to the surface of her skin began to show on her face. Her peach skin tints red and her fists tremble at her sides. “But it’s no  _ fun _ if you just lay down and die....” Her voice is short and quick and the wind is loud in her ears; despite the initial fury she felt at his lack of a will to live, a twisted smile begins to stretch across her lips.

“You know what? Perhaps we’re  _ both _ mad, then.” Enoshima laughs a bit, looking at the rubies on her finger. “Even though I’d rather you put up a fight, the idea of the despair everyone shall feel upon finding out what a  _ joke _ you are is far more rewarding. Can you imagine how shocked and disgusted your people will be with you?” The Queen’s eyes sparkle with bloodlust and she approaches him again, staring him in the face. “If you really think this is such a cause to die for, then I won’t complain if you want to find yourself on the other end of my sword.”

"No, they hate me already. I have brought despair to my own land beyond your comprehension. Why do you think I asked for trade with Kamukura in the first place? My kingdom is starving." He snorts, "I hold steadfast to my belief that there is not a nobler cause to die for than love.  _ Real _ love." He steps back and opens his arms.

"Kill me if you wish; I know  _ Izuru _ would do the same for me." He says the given name like candy, eyes sparkling. " **I'll lie down and die if it means** **_you_ ** **don't get the satisfaction of winning!** "

The rollercoaster of emotion Enoshima had experienced since trapping the man outside was intense and confusing; his compliance had gone back to annoying her and her jaw was set, huffing through her nose.

“If I had a sword, I’d kill you right here.” She is spitting again, tapping her foot against the tiles. “I’d watch your fuckin’ blood spill and laugh at you at my feet.” She steps back, closing her eyes and recollecting her thoughts. She is silent for a moment, refusing to look at the man who taunted her across the stone pavers. Instead, she looks at the oak door, formulating how she would go about the entire situation. 

“Rest assured, this night will end in your death.” Enoshima steps toward the door, crinkling her nose at him. “I won’t say when, though. Just to keep you on your toes.” Grasping the handle and pulling it outwards, she sneers at him one last time. “In the end, I’ll still win.” She waggles her fingers tauntingly. “ _ I’ll  _ be the one who gets to spend my life with him, motherfucker.” 

Leaving him at that, she shuts the door behind her, opting to return to the ballroom.

At the click of the door, he slumps, his arms dropping and his smile fading. The reality of what just happened catches up to him. He sealed his fate. He won't be alive to see tomorrow. It's oddly... thrilling. Komaeda may not be able to handle loud noises or crowds or, heaven forbid, a  _ dinner with nobility _ , perish the thought... but he can handle death. It is an old friend of his that he has long awaited. It's peaceful, in a confusing way. Standing out in the gardens as the sky turns black and the stars replace the sun, knowing every breath is more important now than ever. 

It is with that mentality that he straightens his coat, flattens his hair (as much as the wild thing will cooperate), and walks back to the door. Enoshima is long gone, and he makes a spectacle of strolling back into the ballroom with all the casualty of a man who, upon first glance, has an entire life ahead of him.

He hums to himself, the sound drowned out by the celebrations to everyone but himself. He wonders if it looks obvious that he has been crying and begging for his life? Perhaps he looks red in the eyes... not that anyone would care to notice.

He pauses, thinking, still standing on the edges of the crowd.  _ One _ person would. He scans the hoard for soft pink hair, fine as silk and dainty as a flower. Nanami. He spots her carrying drinks and makes his way over to her, a small smile that he can no longer feel still plastered on his face.

Nanami was preoccupied, but upon the flash of pure white in the corner of her eye she turns her head, going to catch his eye to convey that she would be right over to him; however, once she sees that he is paled more so than usual and the swelling around his eyes, she stops immediately. Her mouth hangs open in concern, soft brows furrowed as she looks up at him. She has forgotten about the task she has been assigned.

“Your Highness, what is the matter?” Nanami’s voice is gentle, her tired eyes watery with worry. “I  _ knew  _ something had been wrong; I should have followed you, I am so sorry...”

"Nothing, nothing." Komaeda waves her off, shaking his head, "Do you have a drink? Wine? I would so love some wine." Smiling at the room, he looks at the wash of faces, humming, "Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong."

Her face exhibits her bewilderment, her sweet features scrunched in thought, but she is made aware of the tray in her arms and remembers what she had been doing.

“Y-Yes. Just one moment, Your Highness.” Nanami excuses herself and swiftly deals with the monarchs that had requested her aid, hurriedly pouring the first bottle she saw into a glass to bring back to him.

“Y-You did not request a specific kind, so I pray you do not mind Merlot.” The servant girl hands it over, wringing her hands a bit. “It is nightfall,” she states. It sounds as if she has more to say, but for the Prince’s safety, she lets the second half of her sentence fizzle out. She glances around the ballroom anxiously.

"Is it? I hadn't noticed." He asks, already knowing it had been. He tips back the glass,  _ chugging it _ and nearly finishing it off. He looks back to Nanami, blinking, "Hm. I've always hated drinking. It is more of a social thing, for royalty, at least. You must keep a sharp mind to rule a kingdom, yes? Hah!" He sneers, finishing off the last bit. 

"Oh, Nanami, could you perhaps send a message to His Highness the King? Tell him... tell him..." He laughs bitterly against a burning behind his eyes, "Ah, pardon me, I think I may just return to my quarters for the night. It was lovely to see you. You are quite an amazing girl, Nanami. Incredible and kind..." He nods and turns, waving with his glass as he steps away, "Do take care, won't you?"

Nanami, for what may be the very first time in her life, is stunned to silence. She had been the one to deliver the plan, so she knew for a fact that it was meant to happen tonight, and  _ very, very _ soon. She had only been graced with Komaeda’s presence a handful of times, yet she knew the carelessness and pain that reflected in his eyes was entirely uncharacteristic of him; anxiety and concern bubbled up her throat, and she went to call out to him. However, she remembered their surroundings and could only manage a pitiful “but...” before her voice gave out and she was forced to watch him walk away from her. 

Her gaze flicked around the room in desperate search for ebony hair. Despite the lateness, it was still incredibly busy, and she couldn’t find her King in sight.

The horrible feeling that rested in the pit of her stomach demanded that she find him, so she immediately began to actively search, boldly ignoring calls to her by other monarchs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i know for a fact that the next chapter needs MAJOR, MAJOR tweaking (like, an entire scene might need rewritten), so i'm not sure when the next update will be. i'll try to be as quick as i can!!
> 
> see you soon!

**Author's Note:**

> technically this work is already finished!! we just have to edit everything that's all. chapters will be posted as they're edited!!


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